Searching
by Burn.ward
Summary: "This story isn't for you… it's not some great love story or anything like that. All you need to know is that it's about me and it's about her. "- a love story told through santana's eyes.
1. Chapter 1

HI... don't really know what this is; it was just an idea I had in my head for a while. Thought I might just put it up and see what happens. I would love some imput on it.

All rights to Glee. Cheers.

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><p>This story isn't for you… it's not some great love story or anything like that. All you need to know is that it's about me and it's about her. Everyone just assumes that we've always been together; that we always knew that it- this thing, us, was happening. It was innocent at first, a brush of the hand, a simple glance. I never had to explain or apologize I didn't have to pretend to be someone. I could just be me; it was easy. I didn't have to play a game with her; I never thought it, us, as that. I was just Santana and she was just Brittany; it was simple. Until it wasn't anymore…I don't know how it got to be so complicated…. I just want all this confusion to stop.<p>

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><p><em>We met in grade school she was quiet and I didn't know anybody… we met but truth be told we weren't best friends. No that didn't happen until high school, freshmen year, cheerleading tryouts.<em>

Smile; my heart hammering against my rib cage like it's trying to escape. Breath just calm down; you did everything perfectly, but she's only taking a couple new girls. I made it; I know I did, I was perfect. I owned these losers; well most of them anyways, Quinn is still standing next to me. Daring a glance at her and her smile doesn't waver, she stands cool and collected… meaning she's just as terrified as I am. Of course she'll never admit it, and I'll cut a bitch before I ever let her know… she'll never let it go. And rightfully so… it's how we work, not too many people get it but then again that doesn't matter.

It's a twinge in the pit of my stomach, a whispered voice in my head that makes me glance over to Brittany. She stands watching something so intently that I can't stop from following her gaze. What could be so interesting? Two cheerios stand shoulder to shoulder, comfortable in the familiarity of each other. One nudges the other with an elbow, a faint smile playing across her mouth. Looking back to Brittany, a mimicked smile on her face, what's so interesting about them Brittany? She turns her head scanning the crowd, her smile never waiver, there is no flicker of fear or nerves in her eyes. They're blue, I never realized that before. Her gaze meets mine and I can't help this rush of heat from filling my veins, flooding my face as I look away, shit.

"Ladies, two words: sloppy and rudimentary. If you thought it would be easy to make this squad, you were dead wrong. In fact I have had people attempt murder to make as far as you have and honestly if it weren't for those pesky laws it would be a requirement. With that said I need the rejects to sign these waivers, stating that I am not responsible for when you attempt suicide, on their way out. So… Dora, Barbie, and Betty you stay the rest of you, get out; I'm tired of looking at you."

She points her hand lazily towards us, before she turns back to her clip board. As if on cue someone starts crying in behind me. Wait did she just call me Dora? A hand on my shoulder forcing me to turn, Quinn smiles letting her hand fall behind her.

"Congrats," she shifts from one foot to another out of excitement.

"Same to you." Her smile is cold; it's a passing flicker in her eyes that betrays her excitement.

She turns to Brittany, a quick hug and a warm smile as she pulls away moving to the swarm of cheerleaders crowding us. This twinge in my stomach, like I'm walking in the dark, cautious with each step I take. She smiles happily, excited in a reserved way as she moves toward me.

"Congratulations Santana." I can't help but smile back; she pulls me in her arms enveloping me.

"Congrats Brittany," she smells of a flower I can't place. The look on Quinn's face making me drop my hands, we step away from each other in an awkward motion. The smell of that flower lingering still in the air. What type of perfume is it? Where did you get it?

"Ladies, if you're done hugging and whatever it is you do; get out. Now." She yells it into a speaker phone, still reading over that clip board.

"Ok," Quinn stepping in between us, that cool and collected smile falling onto her face. "We're leaving, we'll see you tomorrow."

She glances back at us, expecting us to agree; we kind of have to. She moves taking a slow lingering step like she's waiting for us to follow. She just shrugs, that smile still playing at the corners of her mouth. We follow Quinn to the hall, gathering our bags quietly. The squad moves like water through the halls, unrelenting and commanding, they split into smaller groups. Their stone faces, and glaring eyes break into weary smiles as they congratulate us. For a moment I feel… okay, comfortable in this crowded hall of near forgotten and nameless faces that flood us; neglect us.

"So what class do you have now?" Her voice is soft, and that chill of nerves run's just under my skin.

"I'm heading to homeroom," she turns her head slightly in confusion. "math; Buhler."

She leans forward, almost standing on her toes that smile crawling along her lips.

"Me too," I didn't see you yesterday.

"You weren't there yesterday." Quinn turn's, hugging her books to her chest like she's scared; she stands next to us that questioning look on her face like she's trying to figure her out.

"I got lost," she shrugs it off like its nothing…. she's stopped smiling though.

"Ok… well just stick with us then." She glances over her shoulder, her eyes darker like she's daring me to do or say something against her.

She nods her head in agreement, screw you Quinn, and turns down the hall waiting for us to follow. We try to fight our way through the crowded hall, past nervous groups of freshman and the calm groups of upper classmen. My arm brushes against hers as we squeeze past a group of football players. They look down, their eyes roaming over us, smug smiles littering their faces.

"So how was your summer Brittany?" I don't really know why I'm asking, it's not like we're really good friends. Honestly, even though we've been in the same class since second grade, I barely know her.

"It was ok, I just-"a sharp sudden pain shoots through my body, as Quinn's elbow and foot connect with me.

"Ow." Instinctively I feel my palm move against Brittany's stomach in an attempt to stop her from walking into Quinn as well. My hand is on her stomach… I should move my hand.

"That hurt; watch where you're going troll." Glancing away from my hand on her stomach I peer over Quinn's shoulder. Standing just on the other side of her stands a small surprised little brunette. Almost feel sorry for her.

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean to. I was just caught up in the moment of the performance and I di- didn't think that would people would still be walking pas-." How cute, she's scared.

"Ok stop. I don't care. Just watch where you're going." Steeling myself against this nauseous feeling in my stomach, I do my best to glare at her. I bite the inside of my cheek in attempt to stop from laughing, she's dressed like she should be on stage singing backup to a drag queen; way too much makeup kid.

"Oh, ok-"She looks down at her shoes, quiet and small standing before us. It's in the way she quickly glances up… a quiet plea for us to like her.

"Let's go, we don't want to be late." Her voice hard and cold; this girl just made a mistake. Backing down without a fight will destroy in this place… I wonder how easy it is to make her cry.

Walking around the corner, I can see Brittany glancing over her shoulder, a weird look in her eyes. Like she feels sorry or confused or something about what just happened. I don't know what makes me do it; it's just a thought that crosses my mind. The softness of her shirt against my elbow as I nudge her, her eyes falling into mine and all I can do is smile.

"What did you do this summer?" She almost bounces into the room, a smile on her lips once more; she follows Quinn to a middle table.

"The usual, just hung out with Quinn." She watches me as I move past her and Quinn, a look of disappointment in her eyes as I pull out a chair.

"You make it sound like a chore." She carefully opens her binder looking around the room. She acts like it's the most natural thing to do; to count how many people you know in a room.

"Sometimes it is." She turns her head, trying not to smile… she reads like a book.

I can feel her watching, this cool chill that runs along my spine. I should be use to people staring; I've been a cheerleader since I was ten. I sit up straighter in my chair, a nervous habit, and my eyes narrowing in on the board. It's a low murmur that crawls among the crowd, searching for the source and the room glances away; afraid I'll catch them. It's a loud whisper, concentrating on hearing it clearly it makes my stomach turn with how it's said.

"They're the new cheerios."

Like fire it spreads in hushed jealous and fearful tones. It's in the air, electric and thick… I should feel different. I should feel powerful and something other than this… I joined the cheerios to belong; why do I feel so alone? Quinn sits up, posed gracefully and strong; she loves this. My stomach turns, this feeling like someone is staring right through me… her blue eyes questioning in this crowded room.

For you to really understand… god why the hell am I even bothering with this? I don't get it? Why him over me?


	2. Chapter 2

No one knows about us really, they just laugh or smile or whatever. We're just Santana and Brittany; it sounds so weird to say it like that. Like this is just a joke, unimportant… when really it's all that matters. Only it's not Santana and Brittany anymore, it's Brittany and Artie… I'm just an afterthought. It's like my heart beat slows for a second, this sharp pain in my stomach like someone just sucker punched me. I shouldn't care this much, it shouldn't even bother me; it's just a game, right Brittany? He doesn't matter, a quiet whisper meant to stop this dull ache in my chest from spreading. It's just a game; I get it I pissed you off and you broke the rules to hurt me. It's just something to do, a distraction like cheerios or math class; it's not serious. She refused to talk to me for days when it first started; there were no shy smiles when we passed in the hall, no more 'accidental' hand brushes.

We were just Santana and Brittany; an act really, here for your entertainment. Or so it was in the beginning… now I can't explain it, or forget it. I don't know what to feel… like I'm not in control; frozen in a free fall and I can't see what I'm falling into. I feel like I'm swallowed whole by the dark, it's all I see and feel. This wasn't the plan; it's not supposed to be this way… I was going to be someone. I was going to be someone who could leave this place in their rear view mirror and never look back. Instead all I can see is her; every thought is about her… every song that plays is sung to her, made for her. Fuck I've got to stop listening to music when I go to bed.

It's harder to sleep now… I see her smile every time I close my eyes; I hear her laugh, I can almost feel her against my fingertips. My stomach turns and flips, the sick burn in my throat creeping higher each time. It's like a whispered song I can't forget; her voice plays, hushed and sweet, in the night breeze. My eyes burn, they sting from the cold of the room, a chill that runs straight through to my bones. Have you ever felt something that you can't exactly explain? I can't stop thinking of her; it's like she possesses me.

I can't get her out of my head anymore, everything reminds me of her. How the fuck did this happen? I shouldn't be thinking of her this much… the shy way she looks at her hands when she walks in to the room. It's a rush of heat coursing through my veins; hot enough to make my blood boil yet I can't help but shiver. Stop thinking about her; the smell of her shampoo still lingers on her pillow. It's cool to the touch, soft and smooth… streaming images of her smile, her body. My skin hums with the thought of how it feels underneath my fingers, I can't stop this.

Fuck. Why can't I stop this? I should be thinking about Sam, I should be thinking about math and English; I should be finding a song to sing. I never wanted to join Glee club at first; I knew where I stood in this hick ass town. I didn't want to change that… I never wanted any of it to change. A wave of pain that turns my stomach once more, that washes all thought of her. Replacing it instead with the spinning of the room, my stomach in knots like I'm about to fall. And it hits like a truck, the thought of her looking at him with that shy smile. A chill runs through me; like a cold that seeps so deep inside that it fills my veins with ice. A slight sting as my nails bite into my skin… no matter how hard my fist shakes, my skin doesn't break. How can one person do this? Do you know what you're doing to me Brittany? Because I can't figure it out… why can't I stop thinking about you?

I hate that four eyed bastard; I wonder how fast I could drive with him tied to my bumper… that's not illegal right? I mean he has wheels on his chairs it'll be like I'm towing him or something. My stomach turns when I think of her kissing him… wonder if I can set some sort of world record if I push him down one of those Olympic slide things. You know the ones where they're made of ice…. It doesn't matter though; he's still with her and I'm here all alone, waiting for the door to open and that shy smile to play across her lips. The door taunts me it nearly glows in the shadowed moon light. Closed, leaving me trapped in here alone with nothing more than a near forgotten picture of a memory that haunts me still. Why can't I stop?

_Freshman year- the day before nationals._

The thing about people is that they're stupid. If they're not gawking or cowering then they're just annoying. It's a silence so thick it's deafening, they glance and move in hurried movements like I make them nervous. It's a dull hum of electricity that runs in my veins with this thought that I'm in control; and I almost feel normal, like I belong. My mind races, it screams and claws at my chest. I don't know what it is but I can feel it stirring in my veins. It's like a whispered voice in my ear, a twinge in the pit of my stomach. A secret laid deep in my blood, written into my skin.

It screams in the quietest moments; silence that lays too thick, too heavy, too long. This thing inside; I don't know… I just want it to stop. So I fight it; I do what I'm supposed to do. I go to practice, I hang out with people and I go out on dates. I play this part well; these distractions, a game to entertain, to hide. The only thing is that I don't know what I'm hiding from. I don't know anything anymore.

Just that it's a twinge in my stomach, a whispered voice in my ear that talks me into looking left into an open door that leads to an empty room. She sits reading over a piece of paper in a curious concentration. Look up Brittany; I don't know why but I want you to look up, to just smile. Her eyes flutter up in a distracted glance; that shy smile falling into place. It's a flutter of nerves that start in the pit of my stomach, a wave of heat that makes me smile back; like I can't control it. Her smile warm, her eyes a vibrant blue glow as she shakes her head causing her bangs to fall into her eyes.

"Santana… let's go." Quinn, her voice authoritative and cool; demands me to follow her. What else can I do?

We walk like we own the place, well if you believe coach Sylvester than yeah we do own this place. That weird scrawny boy from my French class glances over, like he's trying to read us. He doesn't turn away when I glare at him; this shadow of a smirk kind of falls unto his mouth like he knows something about me. I'll bitch slap that smirk off your face Liberace; just stop staring. He flinches when Puck walks by, a lingering look on his face as he notices Finn just beside Puck.

An idiotic and stupid grin from Finn as he stumbles past us and that practiced sneer from Puckerman. Puck's fun; he's a doll really- a play thing. It's funny because he thinks that he's in control, a stud, his words not mine. It's easy with puck, fun at times and simple. I want to say that I like him, like he likes me. I want to say that I can't stop thinking about him or that I get butterflies in my stomach and that I can't speak when I'm around him. I'm supposed to feel that way right? Whatever fuck it… I'm not made that way most likely for a reason. I'm most likely meant to take over this country and kick its ass, or at least rule this school. Plus who even wants to be like that, weak and emotional. I've seen what it does to people, Quinn giggling and blushing like a fool over Finn.

I don't get what's so hot about Finn? He's a freshman quarterback that's maybe played 15 minutes the whole year. He always has this weird confused and lost look on his face, or that stupid grin that belongs on Ronald McDonald. I mean I get that Quinn wants that ideal life her parents keep drilling into her head; talk about Ken and Barbie. You know the whole high school sweet hearts, he's a partner in his law firm and she's the perfect PTA, booster club mom. They're dreams in the society paper, a deacon at the church, plays piano for the choir. I'm personally just waiting for one of them to find out about the others mistress… or man slut. I can kind of see Mrs. Fabray tipping the gardener a nooner; it'll probably be her dad with the whole cliché secretary. Anyways Finn looks like a retarded toddler who should probably be with man hands Berry; she's constantly drooling over him. At least puck has that bad ass look- hey its Brittany.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" She kind of bounces when she's excited about something; she glides, graceful and poised, when she walks.

"We were-"shut it Fabray.

"Nothing, what's going on Britt?" She smiles like she can't stop; I wonder if she even knows how to frown.

"I was just going over this paper on nationals, I can't believe we actually get to go" She walks forward, her arm snaking its way through my own… that twinge in my stomach and a skipped heart beat. "Do you guys want to room together?"

"Of course," shit did I just say that out loud? I can feel the heat rising to my face, my stomach twisting… why did I say that? She kind of squeezes my arm as she leans in, like she wants me to see her smile.

"Well now that that's settled, I think we should go to Puck's party afterwards. You know when we get back, to celebrate." Oh shit that thing; wait who are you to tell me to go Quinn Fabray? "We'll see you at lunch Brittany."

She almost frown's when we turn into the room; and it's a weird thud against my chest. This old familiar twinge in my stomach crawls back as I watch her leave. I only ever feel like this around you Brittany; when you leave or whenever I see you. For a moment the room spins, and the floor falls away… this whispered voice that says her name in my ear.

_The weekend after nationals- Pucks House_

His lips are rough and bruising, his tongue as invasive as his hands. He taste of cheap beer and cigarettes, the smoke clings to his clothes and his hair. I count the kisses, a new habit… his hands moves clumsily along my leg as he leans farther into the kiss. Finally; his chest hard against my fingers, he groans in protest as I stand.

"Come on… you know you want Me." a smug smirk that I want to slap off his face, he leans back with his arms behind his head. An attempt to sway my decision, I'm sure….

"Maybe later Puckerman… if you play it right." Making sure I look presentable, the roar of the room and the smell of sweat hits as I enter the living room. The bodies crushing and abrasive as I try to find her… why do I need to find her?

A moving sea of bodies pushed against me as I fight for air, for an answer to a question I can't remember. Someone hands me a red plastic cup, the drink warm and sickly sweet, I let it fall once I see an opening. The air cool and intoxicating, the kitchen swims before my eyes and I see her smiling that sweet shy smile. This voice screams, the twinge in my stomach gone… her gaze falls on me, her eyes piercing and strange tonight. They call me; searching, almost pleading for something I don't know… what's going on Brittany?

"What's going on?" She doesn't look away; I can feel my heart start to race from the thought of her blues eyes.

"We're playing spin the bottle… you want to join?" she licks her bottom lip in this nervous little way… I wonder what your mouth taste like? My heart hammering against my rib cage, can they hear it? It beats so hard that it hurts… a rush of heat and my stomach flips.

"no." what would happen if it ever landed on you?

Her smile timid now, it's faint no more than a shadow of her regular one. I need a drink; with a shaking hand I grab the closest one… the guy doesn't bother to protest. I need to leave; I can't be here around you Brittany. I can't think straight… I don't know what's happening. The back door left open in a rush of excitement, the night air cool and damp. It floats in my lungs, thick like smoke… I can't stop thinking of her licking that bottom lip.

"Santana?" her voice soft, hushed in this secretive way… like she's afraid someone will hear.

She plays nervously with her hands, that timid smile still playing across her lips… they're a soft shade of pink. She stops just a foot away, leaning against the wall next to me… I can feel how arm she is from here. She won't look at me… did I do something wrong? The thought like a bullet it rips through me, radiating this painful panic from somewhere inside.

"Britt-"her name thick and warm on my tongue, it falls heavily into the dull roar of the night. "What're you doing out here?"

I turn to her warmth; the smell of flowers just ligers between us… a fleeting image of her licking her bottom lip crosses my mind again.

"Why didn't you want to play?" her eyes darker in the night, this sad look on her face like someone just killed her puppy.

"I-"think of something fast. Don't let her know… let her know what? "I don't know."

Her skin just above her upper lip is died a faint red, like she was drinking fruit punch. I wonder what it tastes like… this shock runs along my arm as her hand brushes mine. Her pinky, delicately and shyly, moves across the back of my hand. It sends these chills that seep to my bones… they steal my breathe, making my head swim with thoughts of her.

"Do-"that whispered voice in my ear, hot and humid… like someone's breath. "Do you want to kiss me?"

She takes a step closer, the smell of those flowers, the heat that comes from her… warm and inviting. She isn't smiling now there is no shyness, no nerves… just this scream rising in my chest, this thunderous beating of my heart in my ears. I want to kiss you more than anything… her lips are soft, sweet from the drink. It's a childish brush of the lips at first that steals our breathe, her fingers intertwining with my own as her nose grazes my cheek in a playful attempt for another. She's like air really, my lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, but who the fuck cares…. Her fingers in my hair, a muted thud as everything screams for her. The heat from her and the cold hard abrasiveness of the wall behind us… it sends this shock of heat through my veins. I'm kissing Brittany.


	3. Chapter 3

So what do you guys think so far? I figured that i would start the story off with Santana trying to figure everything out... and eventually end with them together.

Fox own's Glee and the characters... pretty sure either the Zuttons or Amy Winehouse own the song.

When the hell did I get to be so… whiny? I sound like Rachel, oh god the thought just makes my stomach turn. It's a panic that rises in my chest; it courses violent and scorching with each pulse, flooding my lungs. I can picture their eyes, dulled and hateful; the whispered voices that will follow and haunt. The room begins to spin, faster and faster to this screaming beat that is my heart; an echoed thud as it tries to break through my rib cage. Just close your eyes and it'll stop... please stop; just stop. A worn out image of Brittany licking her bottom lip flashes behind closed eyes. It's chased with nightmarish thoughts of distorted faces that scream, that smile sickly sweet only to giggle behind raised hands as soon as I turn away. The room is still dark the walls are nothing more than a blur, the silence too thick too quiet… too certain.

I'm not… I don't… Britt why did you have to cancel tonight? This panic only grows, the room stops spinning though. Fuck it… I can't sleep. I can't… think. The shadows dance along the walls, this whispered voice fighting to be heard over this thunderous heart beat. I need to stop this I need to think of something else, of anything else. The music starts with a bang, it cuts through the silence quick and aggressive. For a moment it drowns out this whispered voice, it stops this thudding heart… it stops. Who ever thought that the only way to find silence is in the middle of a room, with music playing so loud it's numbing. But then it begins again, this whispered secret that hums along to the tune of this song. Memories play out over each other; her smile when she laughs, the feel of her hand as she pulls me up to dance.

_And I think of all the things, of what you're doing, and in my head I paint a picture._

They think she's dumb, stupid even… just thinking of it makes me see red, in reality she's probably the smartest person I know. She's gullible, like seriously gullible she bought a dictionary last year when Quinn said her picture was the definition. It's one of the things that I- no, stop. I know who I am… I'm Santana Lopez; I'm the most bad ass girl in this town. In a rush of heat I think of us dancing, singing along to a song I can barely remember. It's like a breeze, the memory of her hand in mine… she kissed me. My eyes burn, they sting as I try to fight these tears; shit I knew there was a reason I liked this song so much.

_Tuesday after that stupid, stupid party… freshman year. _

It's a lump in my throat, like a candy stuck, sickly sweet and hard. I kissed her; the thought is constantly here, stuck in my head like a song whispered in a memory. I can't sleep without picturing her licking her bottom lip. The memory of her hand in mine, like a cold breeze, of her fingers in my hair. Stop it; just stop thinking about it. It was just a kiss, a drunken kiss. We were just playing a game, it was just a game. Besides it's not even really about her; it's just a kiss… nothing more.

Then why am I so scared to see her again? This feeling like my stomach weighs a hundred pounds; a dull panic radiates from it, Rising in my throat; trapped. I want to see her, I mean she's kind of becoming my best friend… that's the only reason right? She's just my friend… just Brittany. Her whispered voice in my ear, a faint smell of flowers, and her mouth still tasted of her drink… stop. Just- it was just a kiss.

Then why the hell am I hiding? Because it's Brittany; fuck the fact that it's a girl… its Brittany. My pulse pounding in my ear; it plays like angered screams of nameless shadows of people that I'll never know. And I fear… even of those that I love. Breath escapes me; it seeps out like a pin prick hidden in my lungs. This whisper, this pounding in my ear it grows to a scream that courses in my veins; flooding my lungs, my heart. Like the answer is held at the tip of my tongue, heavy and loaded like a gun. A cold shiver that shakes me from within and all I can do is fight to stop from trembling. Fight to stop it, to quiet it, calm it even for a moment before I'm lost forever in this confusion.

My stomach in a knot, racing thoughts of people laughing, teasing and god what did I do? What am I supposed to do now? What do I do? That faint buzz of a phone; and everything stops… like this calm settles in my bones for a second. It was nothing… we were drunk and playing a game, nothing more. Just a stupid game; it didn't- it didn't mean anything. Why can't I forget it then? The thought of her hand in my hair makes me shiver; it keeps playing over and over in my head. I kissed a girl, like that stupid ass Katy Perry song. God I can't be a cliché… I can't be- the bell rings, it makes me jump and my skin crawls with the thought of who it can be. The bell shrill and constant like they've kept their finger on it; better not be that weird little pervy kid from next door. His mom said they'd sue if I hit him again… screw it, dad will just like ground me for a week. My hand shakes as I turn the music off, fuck it the kid can go touch himself somewhere or whatever it is little boys do. Oh thank god it's stopped… ok good, it's been like a minute without thinking about- just don't think about it. Just stop thinking about her.

"Santana?" her voice sends these chills that radiate, like a cool breeze of a haunted kiss. Shit… I look like shit, I'm in my ugly comfy pyjamas and my hair is a mess. And what the hell is she doing here? That whispered voice hisses in my ear, a sound so close to the word kiss that I blush. "Santana are you home?"

My palms are getting sweaty; I didn't even know hands could sweat… her footsteps ring closer and closer. Oh shit, what do I do? What do I say? It was a drunken game… it was a drunken game. Repeating it like a prayer that will make the image of her licking her bottom lip, disappear. My stomach turns it flips when I hear the top stair creak… I could hide, I could hide somewhere… I could hide in the- ok not even going to finish that. What is she doing here? What do I do? Oh I think I'm going to be sick, don't come in; please don't come in.

"Santana?" she opens the door like she's sneaking in… this pressure in my lungs like I'm holding my breath. Maybe I am; I can't really think right now. "Hi."

That old familiar twinge in my stomach… odd how it's comforting. These racing thoughts stop, this panic fades and all I can feel is this pull. Like I'm holding onto a rope tied around my waist... just waiting for them to pull. She stares at her shoes, nervously playing with her fingers… her lips are a darker pink today. I should say something… do something.

"hi." my throat is dry all of a sudden, the words too complex to form… what am I supposed to do? She looks around the room everywhere but at me, and my finger twitches as this urge to touch her, to make her look at me. "What- what are you doing here?"

A fleeting glance that cuts deep, she steps forward and this fear grips me like I don't know what I'm going to do. It's a jerk reaction a clumsy step back and she looks like I just slapped her- don't. Stop doing this Brittany… stop making me- I just I don't know. It was just a kiss right? A game? Pleading for her to look at me, to understand … she finally does. Even now there is a shadow of a smile hidden in the corner of her mouth, she looks right through me. Her eyes a stormy blue, violent and heart wrenching as they search not for an answer but for me.

"You're not sick." She says it soft, hushed in a broken way. "Quinn said-"

"Quinn's stupid." Why did I just say that? "Did she-"

"no." she shifts awkwardly from one foot to another, putting her hands in her back pockets.

Why do I feel like this around you, and only you? Why can't I feel this when I'm with Puck or anybody else? What is this? You have to tell me; you have to know… because I don't know why I kissed you. I don't know why I even wanted to… I don't know why I can't stop staring at you right now.

"I just didn't feel like going to school-"

"Because... I was there?" Yes. It catches in my throat; like a hand slowly choking me… "Why don't you answer your phone?"

She looks at it half hidden beneath the covers before she turns back to me, with this daring anger in her eyes.

"I- I've just been busy." Trying to forget that stupid kiss; it was just a game. Repeat it once more… just one more time. "Look Brittany, I was drunk and it was a game."

I look away, afraid of what she'll do. Afraid of what she'll say… afraid to see her reaction. It was just a game; it was the drinks. It was just a kiss.

"If it was just a game… then why didn't you come to school?" her voice doesn't waiver, there is no hint of fear or… confusion, just pain. Don't cry; not over a stupid kiss.

"I told you… I just wanted to be alone." She steps forward, her hand warm through the cloth of my shirt. She pulls me so I can see her… so that I can't look away.

"It was just a kiss…" she keeps me at arm's length, but I can still smell her; like lilies. She smells like lilies. "You're my best friend."

"You're mine too." a weak whisper that I want to shout.

"Then… come back to school." I can feel how warm she is… her hand falls to her side; and I can only think of her pinky brushing over the back of my hand.

"Of course I'm coming back to school." Smile…. pretend that this is ok. Pretend that you don't want her.

"good." She smiles; and I can feel it in the pit of my stomach, this pull. "What're you listening to?"

She walks away, and it feels like she's dragging me with her. She walks like a dancer, graceful long strides and a sway of her hip. I can feel her on me; crawling beneath my skin… the room smells of lilies. I sit before I fall; a fleeting thought of her licking her bottom lip. Why do I feel this way… when I'm around you? It's a whistled note in the air; like a gust of wind in the middle of winter. I can't escape this whispered voice in my head anymore… not when it keeps whispering your name.

"Let me do it." I say it so that she'll look at me… so that I can see the exact shade of blue her eyes are.

She smiles again as the song plays… it's nothing more than a faint hum. She bites her lip as she starts to dance in this nervous way… her gaze calling me to join her. I can't… I don't think I can- stop. I can feel it begin in my stomach, my stomach knotted like I'm perched atop a roller coaster. She twirls in from of me, stopping with her hand out… and my heart begins to race.

"Dance with me."

A timid smile that makes my stomach flutter, I shouldn't do this… her hand is warm. I can't help but shiver, it's like this current of heat that comes from her touch. A rush of air that smells heavily of lilies… she smells of lilies, why haven't I noticed it before? I need to do something… her mouth looks so soft; is it sweet today? Say something, do something… before you suffocate in this heat.

"Valerie. Why don't you come on over, Valerie."

She smiles in a quiet laugh as she spins away; this sudden binding feel of panic as her fingers slip a little out of my grasp. She glances over her shoulder as she moves; a daring question in her eyes like she wants to play a new game. We dance closer… but never touch. We sing along to try and hide the pounding beat of my heart beat. Do you feel this too?

"Valerie."

She leans forward, close enough that I can feel her breathe on my neck. The room spins for a second as my stomach jumps and my heart falters. I turn to her, like I have no choice anymore… this pull is too strong. She smells way too good... it fills my head like smoke. A wall of heat radiating from her, it crackles across my skin like a wave of electricity.

"I can keep a secret." Her breathe warm in my ear, heavy and quick… like she can't catch her breath.

Every nerve is on fire; every inch of me can feel her, every inch screams for her. Her touch soft on my cheek; her muscles jump beneath my finger tips… it's a simple kiss. Like she's claiming me; everything fades to black but her. She pulls away just far enough that I can still feel her lips against mine; a mere second is all it takes for this spell to fall. The taunting feel of her shirt in my hands as I pull her close… as we fight for more of each other. A dull ache in my lungs, my stomach and in chest as she runs her hands through my hair. I don't think I can stop.

The panic runs, and crawls around me… this scream building, clawing at my throat. It's cold in my hand, vibrating… almost like it has its own heart beat; the iPod falls out as I swing the dock. This scream is suffocating; an image of Kurt crying, broken, driven out because of whom he is. Fuck. No… I'm just Santana and she's just Brittany… why does this hurt? I feel as if I'm treading water, stop I need this song to stop. Just stop. This whispered voice… it's getting louder and louder, fuck just shut up… please just stop. I shouldn't have sung that stupid song to her today… why does this have to change? An echoing thud cuts through the air as the iPod hits a wall.

This scream burning in my throat begging to be heard; I can't say it. I can't do this anymore… it's a cracking sound, like someone breaking a stick in half. I'm tired, my arms and legs heavy suddenly… I'm so tired of fighting this; of being so angry at this…. I'm just so tired.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's been awhile... but life kind of got into the way. So anyway what do you guys think about the story so far?**

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><p>I think back to the beginning… I think back to the first time her hand brushed mine in the crowded halls. I think back to that first kiss, to our first sleep over, to that first day I met her. We were 8 and she sat in front of me in class. I think back to when this confusion began; when we barely knew each other and I could breathe freely.<p>

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><p><em>Freshman year- November.<em>

Stuck in the middle of a crowd, their voices a distant hum in my ear, they jump staring at their feet as I clear my throat. It's a rush of adrenaline as I walk through, a smile playing across my lips… they walk pass talking in quiet tones. Wary eyes watch them as they walk and it's easy to fall in step with her, Brittany, this subtle way she slows down matching my pace. A mischievous smile on her lips when I roll my eyes at Quinn; I can feel her walking next to me, if that makes sense. It's like my body reacts to the way she moves all on its own… she steps slightly closer as we turn a corner and I follow suit.

"I heard there is going to be a party this weekend." Her voice like a call for attention; something I can't ignore… unlike the obvious snarl Noah Puckerman is trying to pull off. "It sounds like fun."

"Who's throwing it?" Quinn, her voice is like that annoying buzz from the fridge you sometimes hear when you're home alone.

"Noah hulkman?" ha-ha, oh I would love for you to call him that to his face. "That's wrong isn't it?"

Quinn stares at her with wide questioning eyes, her mouth slightly open and I can tell that she doesn't know how to respond. She tries to smirk and play off the fact that Brittany actually shut her down; but I see you Quinn. It's a jerk reaction, my arm hitting Brittany's… I just need to look at you. The way she smiles, sly and thoughtful, her eyes darting to the back of Quinn's head and I get it. I get you Brittany… well the best that I've ever gotten anyone. It's a simple brush of skin on skin; an accident that is almost missed but for the heat that is coursing through my veins. She glances at our hands so close together for no more than a second… but this twinge in my stomach returns; my heart beating just a little faster.

"You mean Noah Puckerman?" Quinn stops by her locker, glancing over our shoulders as she says it. Bitch just couldn't let it go? "How do you function sometimes?"

"Whatever; Puck asked me earlier today and I said I would go." The look on Quinn's face, like I just stole something from her… you're suppose to like Finn Hudson. That's what you were going on about last night when you came over, uninvited, to show me your high school plan for us. "Want to come and get ready at my place, Brittany?"

Her arm warm in mine as I pull her away from the locker, away from bitch Fabre. I don't know why but all I want to do is scream at Quinn, my fingers curl at the look of hurt in Brittany's eyes. They cloud to a dark blue. She wraps her hand casually over mine… this flutter in my stomach no longer just a twinge but a pull. It fights this rage that burns just beneath, this rage that screams to make her smile... daring a glance back to Quinn and she just stares at us with questioning eyes.

* * *

><p>It's an ache that spreads throughout my body, thick and heavy like lead. The room is quiet, too quiet… I can hear my heart beat in my chest. Its beat is like the ticking of a clock; a bomb about to explode… and my legs are like rubber as I stand. The sheets warm and itchy as I lay down; there's a pressure that covers me like a blanket. Closing my eyes to stop this sting, to stop from falling apart… I need you. A fleeting thought, so simple and easy… I can feel the tear threatening to fall. The air too humid to breathe, this bed too warm to sleep in; it's this twinge in my stomach that won't go away. This feeling like I'm paused at the top of a rollercoaster waiting for the world to drop in front of me. My hand twitches, my body tenses… and I hear her voice whispered in my ear. And I want to fight it… I want to make it stop, I want everything to stop. It's a quiet memory, beautiful in its simplicity; she smiles absently, drawing in her notebook. She leans against me, out of habit really, as she plays with her hair. That's all it really was at first, quiet moments that made me fall in- I want to say it… I do.<p>

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><p><em>Tw<em>

_Two weeks ago._

There is a faint smell of lilies on the morning breeze. The air cool, but if I close my eyes and concentrate I can feel her breathe against my skin. Just the thought of it causes these chills to run down my spine. My finger twitches in her hand; she's still holding my hand… a skipped heart beat before it starts to race. Another shiver that pulls me closer to the warmth that radiates from her. It's the chirping of the birds that scream for me to look at her; the sun in her hair, like a halo, as it falls across her eyes.

My hand twitches again, this urge to touch her so strong that it's almost impossible to breathe. She leans into me, nothing more than a fraction of an inch but it's enough to cloud my vision. I could lay here forever trying to memorize everything about you Brittany; the shades of blonde in your hair, the outline of your mouth, every eyelash and freckle that you have. My stomach turns, stop- don't think about what this means. Nothing can touch us here; not when she moves her thumb over the back of my hand. That small smile forever on her faded rose red lips that taste of waxy watermelon. I- I don't this moment to end; I don't want to forget it. She sighs as I raise my hand and the world stops at the flutter of her eyes as she dreams. What are you dreaming of? I want to know the exact blue of your eyes… I want you to smile at me, to say good morning or even just my name. I want you… but I'm afraid of this ending, I don't it to end. Just stay here, with me…please just stay.

What're you dreaming of? What is that you see? Will I ever get to see it? Her hair soft like silk underneath my finger tips. Her nose wrinkles like she smells something bad… do I smell? She buries her head next to my shoulder before she looks at me through half opened eyes.

"Hi." My voice just above a whisper… it's all I can manage.

"Hi." She smiles in this shy way, like I'm making her nervous. "What time is it?"

This warm twinge of heat in my stomach when she smiles; it rises to my throat. You have a perfect smile... perfect lips.

"Early enough." She smirks; her eyebrows raised in a question as she carefully plays with my hand, tracing random patterns into my palm.

"What time did you fall asleep?" a playful smirk on her lips as I pull her closer, our hands clasped behind my back; we're almost touching, kissing.

"Not long after you." her lips brush mine in a teasing manor; she scrunches up her nose as she brushes it against mine. "Stay…"

She pulls away slightly, my body screaming for more of her, before she smiles into the kiss. Her fingers trail along my arm; I can feel my skin burn from the touch. Softer than a feather her hand lingers on my cheek, tracing out circles. She breaks the kiss with a promise of another as her mouth lingers. She stares unblinking questioning once again in a heart wrenching way; I don't know how to answer the question Brittany. It's just for fun right?

"I have to go," it feels like someone just sucker punched me in the chest with a hammer. "I promised a- mike and Tina I'd hang out with them."

She knows not to say his name anymore… yet she's still with him. I feel like I'm going to be sick, like the room is spinning out of control… I can't look at you. Her touch firmer than before as she forces me to look at her, into her baby blues. It's a pressure building in my lungs, a scream or- I want to kiss you. I want to lock him in a closet at school and leave him there. I want to stop this ache in my chest, this building scream.

"How sweet, a double date." She cringes at the sound of my voice, this ache grows but I can't stop. She'll see me… she'll know, and I can't- what will you do if I told you? She frowns, her fingers lingering on my cheek; it burns as she stands breaking this spell. It's like I can feel each step she takes with this pull to follow her, like we're somehow connected. "So what do the dweebs want to do? Movie? Dinner? Picnic?"

She peels her tank top off using it to cover her chest as she leans to pick up her clothes. I can't read the expression on her face when she turns to look at me. Her tank top clutched tightly in her fist, hiding behind it almost. It just reminds me that all we did was talk last night that we slept in the same bed only holding hands. That last night was the first time she slept over in 13 days… that he gets to have her today.

"I like picnics." She tries to smile but she can't hide the hurt, not from me.

The look in her eyes makes me want to weep, they scream out for me; begging me to make this pain and confusion stop. They beg me to tell her what this is. To tell you that I can't stop thinking about you, she finally breaks this gaze and I swear I could see a tear in her eye. The sound of the door closing like a bullet cutting through my chest… how am I suppose to say that- that I think I-.

"Damn it Brittany… it was just a game."

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><p>All I've ever wanted… was to feel normal. If I could I would count each tear, like I've counted each kiss… I just want- why can't I do this? Stop fighting this… just stop. It's an automatic reaction, done without thought. A picture of me and her smiling at the camera, there's nothing specific or really special about this moment. It's just us sitting in the choir room… just us. Us. a quiet prayer sung like a lullaby… there is no more panic, more hate or fear tearing away at me; controlling me. All I feel is this dull ache as I fall into a restless darkness… broken only by thoughts of her.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**_Been awhile... hope you like it._******

**_All Rights to Glee and all that._**

I dreamt of her last night… I dreamt of her kiss, her touch. I dreamt of her voice, her laugh, her smile… I dreamt of this moment where I finally let this scream out. I dreamt of it… and still my hands tremble, my mind races and my heart beats painfully in my chest. Time seems to jump, it falls onto itself almost; I can't remember how I got here. I can't remember a time when I didn't feel this… pull I guess is the only way I can explain it. It starts with this twinge in my stomach, like when you anticipate another step only to realize there isn't one. There are moments, like this one, where I feel like she keeps trying to pull me in. I need you Brittany. I want you. Only you… I can break the rules too.

"Santana?" Who is that? "What are you doing in your car?"

Tina, she hugs her books just like Brittany does… I never noticed that before.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Breathe, just breathe and do something to make your hands stop trembling.

"It looks like your nervously gripping your steering wheel." Shit, where did he come from? Ok just play the role, be a bitch. Has mike grown? He seems taller; he also can't take a hint when someone glares at him.

"Who asked you?" they glance at each for a second, sharing some secretive look only they know; oh god they know. They walk holding hands, I miss doing that with Brittany, as we move through the mass of students.

"You did, just now." Wait, stop, and just breathe through this. Don't kid yourself Lopez, they're freaking vanilla… or as close as they can be, they barely noticed Kurt was gay.

"Whatever Asian-fusion. I'm going to leave you two to look over each other homework which is what, I can only assume, is your foreplay." See easy as breathing… I think I forgot how to breathe. It begins- this twinge in my stomach growing strong, it's almost comforting… and terrifying.

She's calling me…it makes it easier, like she's guiding each step… past these searching and judging eyes that surround me. God I feel like it's written across my forehead, branded into my skin; they know. This whispered voice in my head, soothing for once; it fights with the quiet harsh words that I feel crawling underneath my skin. Just stop fighting and… give into this for once.

I can- I cannot say it; I can pretend for one more day. We can be us… we can play the game, follow the rules. It comes in waves this gut wrenching pain when I think about us… about the rules to this game we play. It's just a game- and it's killing me. I can pretend I can do this… turning the corner and she's there, with a warm smile as she walks past someone she knows; she loops her thumbs around the straps of her backpack. She's there; my palms are sweating; walking to her locker like today is just a regular day. She's right there, and suddenly I can't breathe, I can't think or move. I can only watch her… what the fuck am I doing? What is she doesn't feel the same way I do… she likes me, she likes everyone. She's my best friend… it's been more than that for a year- well kind of. I don't know what we are….

I can't do this... I can't lose you...I can't be this person...I can't- I can't... I want you to- God. Why is this so hard?

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><p>It's this uncontrollable urge to find her, a need so basic that I can't think of anything else. Blurred faces, intrusive hands surround me pulling me into them, drowning me in a sea of smug smiles and leering looks. I don't really know where the hell I'm going; it's just this twinge in my stomach and that fleeting thought of her smile that drives me. A chill, almost electric in its intensity, runs down my neck; she's watching me. There is a pressure building in my lungs like I forgot how to breathe; her name is held idle at the tip of my tongue. Her eyes piercing and bright in the dark light of the room; I haven't kissed you in 27 days.<p>

It's a lump in my throat, and a sudden rush of heat floods my face. Do you know what I'm thinking? Her lips form that shy smile; they're tinted in a faint red or dark pink; I can't tell from here. She finally looks down nervously at her hands clutching a laughably stereotypical red party cup. Who ever thought of them must be rich. She looks up, her eyes quizzative as my cheeks burn hotter; I can't help but smile like a fool around you. Her smile fades when a hand pulls me away, breaking us out of this trance. Hot, humid breathe in my ear as the crowd of bodies surrounds us, hiding her once more.

"Dance with me?" Matt, the current tight end of our horribly embarrassing football team, slurs loudly in my ear. A shy drunken smile on his lips, he hesitantly places a hand on my hip keeping enough of a distance that I'm not suffocating from his cologne.

A practiced smile, and this inability to actually look him in the eye I let him lead. It's easy with Matt; he's sweet and timid as we dance. A haze of heat, sweat and a distant beat of a song faintly heard over this whispered pulse in my ears. She calls me with a glance, a look so honest that a knot forms in my stomach; almost as if I'm tied to her. The song stops and he stumbles forward, his hands clutching at me. His mouth tasting of beer and chips, his kiss is abrasive, bruising in his haste for more. One stupid footballer, two stupid footballers- it's normal to count kisses right? He stumbles back as I break the kiss… the room shifts.

The air electric, it hums just past my skin. There is a flutter in my stomach as the smell of lilies fill the air; she glides when she walks. A sly playful smile on her lips as she moves through the crowd… with abated breath she looks away in this sad way. Her fingers just brush my hand; setting fire to the room… she looks back as I stand paralyzed and there is nothing I can do but stand here burning. A cold chill runs along my spine, and a whispered breeze tells me that someone is watching. The room spins, blurring these faces once more until I can focus enough to find her leaning against the stereo. Quinn.

She nods toward the kitchen, raising her cup in some sort of signal. Her face calm, calculating even now… it's the look in her eyes that scares me; like she knows something. She walks away without glancing back, and my stomach turns as I follow… what choice do I have?

"Hey baby, we're playing I've never. Come play," Puck in all his bravado reaches for my hand. Brittany.

She's sitting on a side table talking to another cheerio; I can't remember her name right now, and her boyfriend. She pauses, searching for my gaze before her eyes finally fall to my hand in his.

"I- I need a drink, maybe I'll play later."

"You never play any drinking games." A forced, slightly slurred comment from Quinn as she looks over the bottles.

"That's true, why don't you ever play?" Finn, the Moose of McKinley asks as he throws a bottle cap at Puck. "It's fun."

Like I need you to tell me how to have fun… he just smiles that stupid grin as I glare at him. I can still feel her watching me, calling me… her lips are moist from her drink. Quinn clears her throat; a shot raised another waiting for me, she smirks in place of a toast. The shot burns, tequila; typical. She sets up the glasses for another; I can feel Brittany getting closer… it's like a slight breeze. That smells of lilies… why do you smell like lilies? She's warm… if I lean back I can be in her arms. A touch of the hand and an almost mischievous smile on her lips as she passes us.

"Hey, come play now." He's voice is low, thick from the drink. She glances over her shoulder as she walks out the door, her hair falling in her eyes as she looks shyly at her shoes.

"Do I look like a child?" He tries to do that snarl, and it's kind of cute that he can't. He shrugs when I turn, reaching for a bottle of whatever's in reach. I think of her licking her bottom lip; I bet mouth taste like fruit punch… with rum. I think of how shy she was when we first kissed, I think of her hand in mine as we danced. I can almost feel her kiss.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sorry Quinn.

I can't say no to her; I can't say no to this lingering heat that clings to me; to the smell of lilies that trail after her. This twinge in my stomach, this pulsing heat in my veins and I am driven by the thought of her mouth, still moist from her drink. This pull getting stronger… almost impossible to ignore with each step I take. I want you Brittany. She leans against the porch railing, a glance of a smile before she looks at her shoes

"Hey." Her lips are a faint shade of red….

Do they still like watermelon lip smackers? My hands are sweaty… she licks her bottom lip before she bites nervously bites it. The night air too humid, too warm to breathe; you need to stop doing this to me? She smirks in this playful way as she tugs on my shirt, pulling me into her arms. It's a hug… nothing more but I can't breathe my heart racing in my chest. The heat from her running along my skin, and I can't help but imagine a field of lilies.

"Why do you smell like lilies all the time?" She laughs, it's soft and almost musical… her breathe floats past my ear. A flash of her mouth in that playful smirk, I bet it taste like fruit punch tonight.

"I guess it's my shampoo," whispered like a secret meant only for me. She's soft, warm and perfect… she kind of starts to sway, like we're in this weird slow dance. "I like this song."

Another secret meant only for me, just for this moment… what song does she hear? Her hand almost falls from my shoulder; resting on my lower back… it's a game now, who will break their gaze first? It's like no matter how many times I see her eyes, I can never get the colour exactly right. In this moment I can almost hear the song playing in her head… she timidly takes a step back, her hands on my hips. The corners of her mouth twitch like she wants to smile, but can't. It's this one small thing that breaks me… that makes this twinge in my stomach burn. Is the blue of her eyes that make me feel like I'm drowning; I'm drowning in the heat of her, in this field of lilies that fills my head. In the thought of her lips on mine; of her hands in my hair… it's a chill that runs down my spine. Electric and consuming; she takes a step back for every step I take forward.

My hands on her arms… I need you close; I need you to keep touching me. She licks her bottom lip once more, all I can smell is her, all I can feel is her… and a new plays. Her mouth slightly open; her hands squeezing me tight like she wants this as much as I do, needs it like I do. It's no more than five desperate steps, before I can feel the cold abrasive brick against the back of my hands. It's only five steps before I'm close enough to feel her breathe, before she stares at me like she's afraid… afraid of what might happen. Afraid of this heat, this voice screaming for more… screaming for something we don't know. My hand trembles against her arm, her thumb moves in a circle on my hip as she smirks and nudging her nose against my own. It took five step to figure out that her lips taste like strawberry punch and vanilla lip smackers.

The world fades, thought dies and there is nothing left but for us to burn. Nothing left to do but to fight against our screaming lungs; our racing heart beats… to try and find a reason to stop. She pulls away in an attempt to catch her breath; she smiles when I kiss her again… I know I can't stop. Her kisses are like air, her touch like water… I cannot stop. I need her.

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><p>It was the first time I wasn't scared… the first time I really knew that…I need her. I want her. I love her. It's simple right? I'm Santana and she's Brittany… I love her. A silent chant; a prayer really meant to make my hands stop trembling as I take a step towards her. I need you, Brittany. She pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from the bottom of her locker; I want you, Brittany. Some freshman freak freezes in front of me, and for once I don't care… I just move past him. I love you, Brittany.<p>

"Hey." She turns a book in her hand.

"Hey." She puts it back… like today is just any other day. And it hits me, the hushed voices rising to a roar; they're vacant eyes searching for this thing that's inside me. She's Brittany and I'm Santana… so why can't I breathe anymore?

"Can we talk?" I love you…


	6. Chapter 6

The world didn't stop spinning; I didn't die. I can't breathe anymore without fighting for it. My heart didn't explode or just stop… but I can barely feel it beat. The world didn't stop spinning… but everything is dull, muffled and unimportant. I want to scream until my throat is raw and my voice is gone… because maybe then I won't have the urge to say your name. I want to cry for days, I want to eat ice cream and stay in my pajama's… but I can't. I want to sleep without dreaming of you, I want to be able to sit in my room without being haunted by you. I want my mom to come in and just hold me, to tell me that it's ok; to say that this will pass. But I know that if I told her she would… she would make that little hmm noise that you make fun of. She would stand up straight and look away… then say that it's just a phase and one day I'll laugh about it with my husband.

I want someone to call, to just say that I'm not alone… that I'm not crazy for feeling this- confusion. I love you; I know that now. God this is so cliché sounding… but it's true, I can feel you on me- crawling just beneath my skin. I want someone to care that I love you; I want someone to care that you just broke my heart. I want you; and I hate myself for wanting you. I hate myself because no matter how hard I try I can't stop thinking about you… I can't forget. I want to forget; maybe it'd be easier to breathe. Maybe it'd be easier to pretend. The worst part about this is that I don't have my best friend to talk to… to explain that when I can manage to stop thinking about you, all I can feel is this suffocating fear.

Fear that no one will ever look at me the same; that people will automatically hate me. I mean at least they have a legit reason now; just think how much they'll hate me when they know. I think about what they'll do… about what will happen. Then I think of what they might do to you, or say to you and… it starts all over because I can't protect you. Is that why you chose him over me? I try to think of the bad… and the only thing I can think of is the game; unspoken but always there.

I think of it all; I think of nights spent watching movies and eating junk food. I think of your laugh, and how with one word you can make me a giggling little kid again. I think about days spent by the pool, or in your backyard just talking. The nights filled with parties; the time we broke into Quinn's dads liquor cabinet… I think about sitting in the library, listening to someone's iPod. I think about the back pages of my notebooks, and you're writing scrawled all over it. I think about you; about how I loved you then. How I love you now and how I- hate… how badly I want to hate you.

I feel so numb, raw like I've been burnt, I feel… cold. Like I can see the sun but can't feel it; and it hurts because every time I close my eyes, every time I hear a song or walk somewhere in this damn town… I think of you. I can't stop thinking about you. About your smile, or that you smell like lilies all the time. I can't stop thinking about the fact that your favourite ice-cream is French vanilla with chocolate fudge and rainbow sprinkles. And the thing I hate, the thing that is messing me up is… why? Why did you do this? I love you Brittany. And I hate that… I hate that you make me feel like this; like I'm drowning without you. Like I'm all alone. Why can't you love me?

There's something about this room… I don't know what it is; but it doesn't hurt to be here. For once a place isn't tainted by her… they all think that I joined because Quinn or Coach Sylvester told me too. When really I just like to sing and dance; I like to forget that this town sucks, that these people suck. I just- I don't know how to say that or show that. I don't know how to say that… I can breathe in here, that I don't have to think or pretend. I just sing and dance; I just feel.

The slow metallic click of a turning door knob and I didn't even notice that I was crying. Fuck. Please don't be some gleek, or worse Mr. Shuester. I don't think I can take anything he says seriously if he's wearing a vest. Get it together already… you can't let anyone see you like this; they'll think you have a heart.

"Oh, you're here." I think that this is the first time I've ever heard him speak… he sounds exactly how I thought he would. It's kind of comforting. "I was… which one are you again?"

"Oh hold up. You did not just ask that?" Who the hell is this guy? I mean seriously what does he do? "I'm Santana mother-fu-"

"I'm supposed to stop you before you swear… I mean I kind of find it funny to hear kids swear but school rule. Anyways I remember now," kid? I'm going to have to kick this guy in the balls; maybe even say he tried to touch me or whatever. "You can stay if you want."

He walks to the piano, carefully laying out sheet music; not even caring that I'm still here. I think I'm supposed to be in like math or something. I don't know… I don't own a watch. He's like always around, what the hell does he do?

"What do you do?" He sit's leaning forward reading over the sheet of music, his thumb keeping time on the lid. "I mean are you like some random pedophile like Mr. Ryerson? Or what?"

"You know there's this funny thing here called a piano." He writes a note on the sheet, his voice doesn't change… I mean everything is so calm and factual. "I mean contrary to what your little group thinks... this is the music room. Meaning that the band's practice here when you guys don't… and they also need a teacher like your little club has."

Makes sense… wait so those guys aren't just like our backing band? That kind of makes this seem a little less- I don't know… epic? No it's not that, I mean what the hell is this club anyways? Oh fuck you for making me think now. I wonder what Brittany's doing? Damn it… I almost didn't think of you.


	7. Chapter 7

It's been hard to play the game without you…. I try to forget you; I try to stop feeling like I'm underwater when I'm around you. If that even makes any sense. I've been trying to forget you; to stop thinking about you… I've resorted to extreme measures. Did you know that Tina only lives two blocks from me and three from you? Did you know that she thinks she's in love with Mike? It made me think of the first time we ever really even tried to talk about… it- us; this. I can't stop thinking about everything… about when I first realized I liked you. The first time I first thought that I could love you… the first time we were- I miss you.

I can hear you laugh, and it cuts like a knife taking a piece of me once again. You walk by, leaning over the back of his chair, your hair falling from behind your ear. You're beautiful even now, when you unknowingly break my heart. A quick glance, and for once I can't see that smile… and it hurts. I want it to stop hurting.

"Hey Santana can I get a ride after glee today?" Tina, she shuffles when she walks; hugging her books to her chest. Just like you do.

Everyone just assumes I hate everyone; which granted I do, but you always got why. I hate you Tina. I hate you because you broke up with Artie; which I mean understandable, but inconvenient for me. Also it would be greatly appreciated if he just went away now. I hate you because you think you're in love. I hate you because you can walk down the hall holding his hand. I hate you because you can kiss him in public, without being hunted or ridiculed. I hate you; because you have what I want.

"Am I wearing a uniform?" she just looks confused, ok then guess I'll have to spell this out. "I'm not a chauffeur. Get the other Asian to do it."

"He can't he has football practice. Plus I thought we were getting coffee after; you mentioned something about needing volunteer hours with the less fortunate."

"Whatever; did you do the history homework?" I might as well get something out of this.

"I'm not doing your homework for- hey." Her voice raises an octave whenever she sees him. Damn, I guess I actually learned something in glee club.

"Hi pretty lady." He hands her a small handpicked wild flower that reminds me of lilies. "Santana."

"William hung." Oh, ok I know that that lame attempt at a death glare is not meant for me. It won't even intimidate paper. Mike just looks at us confused; why is it so hard for guys to understand that girls talk about everything. You would've laughed.

"Hey girl. Mike. Satan."

"wheezy." When did my locker become the place to meet of the glee losers?

You're walking into English right now. You'll sit next to Quinn, smiling as you try to decide between pencil and pen. Then you'll decide what colour to use for the day; before you would look up and smile, just for me. I can leave right now.

"Rude much? Can't even say good bye?" since when were you named the queen of manners?

"Don't forget this time."

"I thought class was the other way?" I can hear the stupid grin his has on his face whenever she's around. I could never not stare when you smile. It hurt's too much now; know that he makes you smile.

Wait, mike's in my class? What class do I have now? Why do I care? I've been losing time; moments just disappear and I find myself standing in the exact spot I try to avoid. Like right now; I don't how or why I'm standing outside your English class. I don't know why I'm watching you lean against the wall; you look pretty. That smile subtly crawling across your lips as he hands you a pen.

A fleeting memory of you laughing, the burn of your skin against mine as you grabbed a pen out of my hand. I didn't even get to finish writing the note. My stomach turns in this wave of heat as you kiss his cheek good-bye. You always wrote two X's at the end of every note.

A painful shrill scream fills the hall causing everyone to run somewhere; like their trained dogs. I can't breathe; let alone move or pretend to learn.

"Hey kid," he just called me a kid again. The ass hole. "You're supposed to at least pretend to go to class."

"And you're not supposed to be within like a 100 feet within people under 18." He just stares in this daring, threatening… calm way; it's comforting.

"Follow me." walks past without even a glance back, his voice didn't waiver like most of the adults in this place.

"That wasn't an invitation." He doesn't pause, he just keeps walking without hesitation; like he doesn't really care of I follow or not. Wait, he's technically a teacher right? That means he can like get me out of class with a note or something right? "Fine."

He doesn't slow down he just keeps walking, like you could really ignore me tinkles. No one ignores me, it's like a rule. He turns abruptly between two sets of lockers; fire exit nice. Clever old man you like broke the door or whatever so the alarm won't go off. Wait; please don't be like , I was only joking around.

The airs cool as I open the door; it leads out to this small courtyard. The pavement cracked and the benches are worn; I have no clue where we are. He just leans against an old brick wall under this bay of windows. Oh of course, we're outside of the choir room. I could see up your skirt when you stood on the chair to look out those windows. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a silver case. He turns it over twice before looks at me.

He knows. Oh god he knows. How? Is it written across my forehead or something? Everything seizes, my lungs burn, my heart stutters a beat and I don't know what to do. How do I get out of here?

He doesn't smile. He doesn't blink or speak. He just opens the case and holds it out for me. I lose time again; I don't remember reaching for the cigarette or even moving next to him. You hate cigarettes, the smell makes you sick. It kind of smells like it might rain or even snow again. Do you remember that night? I don't want to forget you… but it hurts to think of you. It hurts to know how soft your mouth is, the way you smile in the middle of a kiss. It hurts to miss holding you, to know that your nose twitches before you wake up. It hurts Brittany; and I just want it to stop.

He leans in to light it, a practiced flick of his wrist and its hidden once more. He doesn't do anything, there is no forced conversation just silence. For the first time since you broke my heart… I can breathe.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Comments on the story so far? Should I keep going?**_

_**Oh and by the way this is just the first part of this whole little thing.**_

"How're we supposed to get back in?" he smirks like I lost this bet of who can stay quiet longest. He drops his cigarette, crushing it with a practiced step to the door. He stops turning to shrug. "Wait, you mean I'm stuck out here with you?"

"Don't flatter yourself kid." He stands looking at the door for a second before he runs his hand carefully over the door frame like he expects to find a secret button. He turns with a smug smile on his face as he slowly pulls open the door. "Once this door closes I'm gone."

He waits as I take one last drag, as I drop the cigarette he takes a step in. he doesn't even wait for me to snub it out he just leaves; shit the door. The door heavy in my fingers, it catches just as it's about to crush them… and for a second I was almost willing to let it happen. The door open and he's already about to turn the corner, there is no hesitation in his step. He doesn't look back or even falter, like nothing happened.

"You couldn't wait two seconds?" the soft thud of the door closing as I realise that the bastard didn't give me a note. Shit my parents are going to freak if I get another detention. That ass hole.

"Santana?" of course.

"wheezy." Where did she come from? Did she see- what exactly am I supposed to say if she ask about it?

"You're late for class." Ok you know I really want to beat you sometimes. But since I'm like growing as a person or whatever I won't… beside you're supposed to be - an acquaintance.

"Why do you care?" can you smell the smoke on me? I can't let Br- I shouldn't care anymore.

"Because we're partners Santana; we have a project to present today. It's why we've been hanging out for two weeks." No it's not… you're just a failure of a distraction.

This whole thing has been an attempt at trying to forget… you; I can never seem to get you out of my head Brittany. Stop. Stop thinking about her; stop or she'll see. She'll know… and this act, this thing that we do will end.

"Wait is that why you keep bringing up that book?" she nods her head in this perfect way; like she's studied it from Aretha or Ross. Turning to leave and I can hear her footsteps; slow and deliberate like no matter where I go she'll still be close behind. "I read it, and by read it I mean I watched the movie; well half of it. Approximately."

I read it twice and watched three different versions of the movie. Failure is not an option in my house; I can still hear him yelling at me for quitting cheerios. For deliberately throwing my future out the window like always. I tried to tell him, to explain to him… that I only stayed because of you.

"Fine… just show up and look pretty then. I'll handle this." bitch please; I have a 3.86 GPA. Not like you'd ever believe that.

She turns her head and rolls her eyes… always predictable. Always just there; pretending to know what's going on. Did you ever notice her and me? Did you see the way she would smile and come running to hug me whenever she passed a test? Did you notice when I stopped sitting next to her? Did you notice when she broke my heart? Why are you here now, after _you_ asked me to be your partner Mercedes, pretending to care about me doing this stupid project? Stop… breathes.

I can still picture that way you would scrunch up your eyes in concentration whenever we studied together. The way you would unknowingly start tapping your pencil in perfect time… I can still count the beat. -2-4

I hate you Mercedes because you're always there… for everyone but me.

"Look, I'm going to pretend that you did not just say that. Just be happy I'm going to show up, looking hot as usual. I'll just wing it or something. Plus it's like against the law to fail me; I'm hot." The first time you really hugged me was in ninth grade, you had just passed your first math test. You ran out of class before the bell even rang ignoring the teacher yelling at you… your touch burned even then. "And when you're buying me a celebratory coffee, non-fat shot of cinnamon extra foam caramel latte, so I don't say I told you so. You can get over it."

I really want a coffee now… I wonder if Sam or puck will get me one. What the hell are you smirking at Mercedes? She shakes her head in this playful manner, like this is just a joke to her. Like this is what we do.

"Just shut up and get in there already. Why did I let you talk me into this?" she pushes me gently, that smirk finally breaking into a smile.

It's this sudden rush of warmth that makes everything… just stop. That makes this moment, this anger that tints the world red and leaves an acrid taste in my mouth, just fade. It never fully fades away… no it lies dormant just under my skin like you. But this moment isn't about you… her hand on my shoulder isn't about you; it's about me. The thought runs cold in my veins, it makes my stomach drop and I feel sick. Just breathe.

"- and that's the end of this annoyingly high moral themed book." I really need to get a manicure, I wonder if I can get in today.

Mercedes hold's her hand up waiting for a high five, how lame… she holds my hand for a second making me look at her. She has this smug smile on her face as she does that head shake… I shouldn't want to smile at this; I shouldn't be smiling… I'm not supposed to smile yet.

"Well done ladies; so tell me what do you think of the book? Did you like it?" was I supposed to like?

"Oh please; one tree hill did it like 5 times." I hate that show… like seriously just end already. If it wasn't for the fact that you refused to miss it…damn it. I wasn't thinking about you.

"Ok…" I never realized that this teacher kind of sounds like the chef from the Muppets.

"Can we sit down now?"

Seriously what the hell did I do that made me break a nail? I haven't even been carrying my own books to class… some kid name chuck has been doing it for me. I think his name is chuck… he looks like Charlie brown. Mercedes hand wraps around my wrist as the bell rings… you'd wait for the class to clear as you slowly gathered your stuff. Putting everything back in their spots, you would smile that one smile meant just for me before you would look up. It was like you knew I would be there. Mercedes hands me my bag with a gross guttural sound, I guess she cleared her throat.

"Non-fat shot of caramel extra foam caramel latte." You better remember it wheezy, that shit's a mouthful.

"Yeah, yeah. Will you stop doing your nails?" her voice almost lost in the dull roar of the halls, she walks half a step ahead like she has no choice but to walk with me.

"I'm like extraordinarily bored today so no." she stops at her locker and I can feel the twinge in my stomach start. I don't know what to do… do I just stand here and pretend that I don't see you? Or do I run scared and feeling like my insides are being ripped out.

"So you totally lied right? You actually read the book didn't you?" She doesn't even have the audacity to look me in the face when she says it… hey I think I used audacity correctly. I'm so going to ace my SAT's.

This feeling in my stomach growing… no matter what it always feels like your pulling me in. a faint smell of lilies that linger in the air and this whispered voice comes back. One day I won't feel this anymore; I won't like the smell of lilies or hear this voice. One day I will be strong enough to stop loving you. I can't do this again; I can't see you with him.

"Class is over now… I don't have to listen to you until glee club." My hands tremble in this pathetic way as my heart starts hammering against my rib cage.

"Still a bitch." Her voice cuts through this fog that is starting to fill my head.

"You love it honey." Chuck, or whatever his name is, just pops up in front of me with this doe eyed expression on his face. I can feel you getting closer, it's like the air is electric now… it's getting harder to run from you.

"See you later Satan." I will rip your Charlie brown face off midget just gets out of my way.

this kid has to be like mentally slow or something because the only thing he can manage to do is move his book in front of his pants; gross… so happy I'll never actually have to do anything with – that again. This voice raises no longer a whisper but a scream for me to turn around and find you. It's an electric shock that runs along my spine and throughout my body. Time just stops… and I'm drowning in the thought of you. My fingers fumble with my lock because apparently I can't function when you're around anymore. See a reason to not be around you.

"Hey."

Something's wrong. You smell… different; like peaches and rain. A haunted memory of us standing on my porch, I can feel the cold bite from the rain now. You never look more beautiful than that moment… don't cry.

"yes." breathe... you have no right to make me think of that night. You have no right to keep torturing me.

"Are you still mad at me?"

Your voice is quiet; to anyone else they wouldn't know that you're trying not to show how nervous you really are right now…. You don't get to be hurt by this. You don't get to make me want to kiss you right now. You don't get to pretend that I hurt you… when you keep hurting me. I love you and that isn't enough for you. It's this surge of energy of this strength that I've been searching for… it hums just underneath my skin. It courses through my veins, roaring in my ears finally shutting up this stupid voice. When did we start walking?

"Don't know what you're talking about." My hand is shaking, no longer from the need to touch you… but from fighting the urge to throw my books across the hall.

"So then you're not mad at me?" no, I'm furious with you. How can you expect this to go back to what it was?

"Believe whatever you want." A brush of someone's hand against my arm… Sam with his sweet smile, he glances over with a questioning look in his eyes. He doesn't stop or even slow down, he just smiles. Why can't I just be in love with you Sam?

"I miss you." the world stops spinning… time stands still and I hate you. I hate you being able to steal all air from a room; I hate you for being able to know what to say to make this pain stop.

A whispered voice in my ear begging to just give in; I can feel you crawling under my skin. This pull, this force that is you; pulling on my arm so I can finally see what shade of blue your eyes really are… because no matter how hard I try- I can never get it right.

"You don't get to say that." please… just I can't pretend anymore.

"Why not?" Because I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you… this need to scream it until my voice cracks and goes raw builds. It claws at my chest, flooding my lungs and it grows heavy on my tongue. I love you.

"Because we're not friends anymore." I always liked peaches… say something.

Tina walks by hugging her books, just like you do… she smiles at mike as he walks by. I hate you Tina. I'm kind of just impartial to you mike… for some reason I don't think I can actually hate you.

"I don't know how to not be your friend." Your voice quivers, it breaks at the end… and I fall with it.

This is why I never wanted to love you… a hot sting of tears threaten to fall as I fight to breathe. Your breathe washes over my neck, the heat from you comforting… it snakes along my body, leaving its mark for everyone to see. I want you to feel this… like I do.

"lear-." Oh shit; cold. That is fucking cold.


	9. Chapter 9

_**So this is part two technically of the last chapter; I promise that the next chapter isn't going to be as… heavy as this one. **_

_**Cheers to the reviews; they're greatly appreciated.**_

"Santana." Your voice is barely audible over the sudden quiet… this deafening quiet.

"Looked a little caliente there chica; hoped that helped gloser." I will kill you Karofsky; you stupid little homophobic racist deaf toned Neanderthal. Who the hell do you think you are? I'm Santana mother fucking- he knows. He has to know… oh god. I can't feel my face.

"Santana." Your touch burns; it's soft and familiar and for a second it's ok. Then it all comes flooding back; it's suffocating in its honesty.

"Don't." I can feel it radiating from you… I never wanted to hurt you. I've never wanted this to happen.

I remember when you bought those shoes… I made the sales lady cry and you convinced the oily kid at basket Robbins to give you an extra scoop free. I hate when your eyes cloud like that; they fade to this stormy blue colour. This stuff is kind of cold and sticky; and it's down my bra now. The corners of your mouth twitch when I can't control this… chill. I should look away; he might still be around and if he does something to- the thought makes everything blur. It makes my stomach turn, my pulse race and my fingers curl. A hesitant step forward, your hand barely raised… and I can't- you burn. Your fingers waiver; your eyes fall to the ground… I feel like I just ripped my own heart out.

Look at me… please just; make this stop. You play with your hands; hiding behind your hair… it takes everything to stop myself from pushing it back. You close enough that I can smell your shampoo. I can feel the air shift when you move… when your fingers brush against my stomach, this shock that stalls my heart beat courses in my veins. The rustling of my clothes as you tug on my sleeve… I can't remember how to breathe.

"Santana." Hearing you say it… your voice like a cool breeze on a stolen morning.

It stirs something deep inside… it breaks everything down and I am defenseless against the thought of you biting your bottom lip. The world returns in a wave of sound… no one is looking, no one even really cares. They move about like right now doesn't matter… like right now isn't perfect in its torture. You're still hugging your books… even now as you drag me to the choir room. You have no right to do this… this shouldn't feel right.

You glide when you walk; it's as if your feet never fully touch the ground. Your hair's grown… it's a darker colour even. I feel like I'm still lying in bed with you, your hand intertwined perfectly in my own. Lost in that quiet moment when the world stands stills and you open your eyes. The morning light surrounding you, made just for you. I miss you more right now in this moment more than ever before.

I didn't even know we had a choir room until Quinn told me last year… now I feel like I never leave it. You stop to place your books down on a chair, your hand lingering… if I didn't know better I'd think you were nervous; scared to turn around. The air shifts when you move, like rippling water… it sends shivers down my spine. That might be because of the slushie… I can't tell. I can never tell when I'm around you. A glance is all it takes to make me forget that I'm supposed to hate you; that you're not mine. A glance as you play nervously with your hands, a glance is all it takes Brittany.

"How do you even know where the towels are? You can barely remember where your own locker is." that's not true... I'm tired, I feel like I haven't slept in years.

This voice whispers for me to follow you, to hold you, to kiss you and tell you that the world is wrong. That these people don't matter, this room doesn't matter… none of it matters. A metallic click of the cabinet lock, ringing like a gun shot in my ears. Your hair moving in waves around your shoulders… a shrill scream of the bell that stops this erratic heartbeat. How the hell has it only been 5 minutes? Your eyes tainted with this sad grey, they drag me under… begging me to just let go. To just stop fighting this… my hand still trembles as I reach for the closest thing. As I pray that- that I will stop drowning whenever I'm around you.

I miss playing the piano… the calm melodic ticking of the metronome; it was soothing. I cried for three days when he sold ours… I learnt right hand first- Every good boy does fine.

"Sit down…" you don't say it as a command or even as a question. It's just something to say to fill this quiet… you're too close.

Your lips are bare, a pale pink, I can barely think as you bite your bottom lip in that nervous way. I tried to count your freckles once when you were asleep but you kept moving and I lost track at five. My stomachs in knots, and I feel like I'm stuck leaning over that edge again… trying to breathe, trying to hear something other than this racing beat in my head. Trying so hard not to… fall; when you look at me like that.

The world stops, and all I can hear is a whisper of rain. I can feel you wash over me… your hand hovering over my cheek. You pause, hesitant as your eyes searching for something that I don't know. Your lips twitch at the corners of your mouth and your touch is light as a feather. It burns, this fire growing in the pit of my stomach… I might pass out. God I love the way you smell… do you- I dream of it still. Your eyes glow, piercing in their intensity; they tear me apart so easily. I miss you more than you'll ever know… the stinging threat of tears; please say you remember.

* * *

><p><em>I was terrified… <em>

The street quiet, lost in another time, another place. I always hated this corner… the street lamp that never works. We counted the steps from our houses; 87 steps to my front door… 135 to your bedroom window. The sky's grey; it makes a false night as you shiver against the cold. This faint smell of lilies that clings to you, it swirls and mixes with the threat of rain that lingers in the air. My skin tingles from your hand brushing mine. You smile even now, throwing your head back, with eyes closed… like you're waiting for the sun. This feeling in my stomach no longer a twinge but a burning flame… my hand twitches with the need to touch you. The thought of your skin, soft and warm beneath my fingertips; I need you. I should say something.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this. Walking for poor people or old ladies that believe that it's exercise." that devilish grin, it sends chills down my spine.

"It didn't take a lot of conniving-"

"-convincing." I picture your eyes to be the exact colour of the ocean.

"- convincing… besides I like walking," a playful lean into me and all I can feel is you; your touch, your smell. It invades my lungs and fills my head; I feel like I'm drunk. "I missed you."

"I haven't gone anywhere." I can't go anywhere… you keep calling me back; this voice that screams for me to find you. "So… what was the ballad you were going to sing?"

"I was thinking the theme to- shit." The sky breaks open, and the heavens fall in blinding sheets of rain. Its cold, freezing really; but your hand is in mine… your fingers fit perfectly.

"This is why I hate walking." Oh god my hair… I don't think I just react; dragging you along with me.

Instead of running inside you just hold tight to my hand, throwing your head back to just feel the rain. Wait; what? You just swore… that's just so weird. It's too cold… I'm not meant for wet or cold or outside things.

"Hey… come here." How are your eyes so blue on a day like today?

It's the quiet way you say it, a whispered secret meant only for me. You hold your hand out with that smile that never falters this look in your eye like you feel… like you can feel your pulse racing at the thought of holding hands. This feeling in my stomach like… I'm already falling, and I'm just waiting to hit the ground. That smile of yours falters as this pull starts in my stomach and the taste of your mouth is all I can think of. With uncertain legs I fight my way to you; this voice in my ear whispering your name.

It's the look in your eye, daring and scared at the same time. Your hand calm and steady as you try to look away; as we try to break this spell once more. A fleeting glance to your hand and it brings these broken thoughts of your mouth on mine; of your hands in my hair. Broken thoughts of your fingers trailing along my skin; of fighting to breathe. Fighting the urge, the need and want to just give in… and it builds like a scream clawing at my throat.

"I really want to kiss you right now," barely a whisper because of this fear that this spell will break as a drop of rain rolls down your cheek. For a second it breaks my heart to think that you might cry one day.

You flinch when I reached for your hand… it's this current that singes the air around us. Your hesitant to touch my cheek, your fingers hover… just barely touching but still you crawl under my skin.

"So kiss me." soft lips that bruise, that fight to set claim to something you've always had.

It's a drug; breathing no longer matters just this taste of you… this need for you. Hands that fight for more; one hand in my hair the other wrapped in my jacket. Your hips curled beneath my fingers… all I can think of is more.

"Stop…" a quiet whisper that ghosts over my skin, setting fire even to the rain. You say that just to piss me off don't you? "Santana."

"What?" you shiver as I say it against your neck.

"You have a boyfriend." No… he's knows what this is. This unspoken agreement between us; I'm yours only yours.

"Sex isn't dating…" believe me; please. "I want you."

In this moment everything- it's the way you're looking at me. Like it's the first and last time you'll ever see me… and there are no words whispered or spoken. Just this look in your eye as you step back and the cold begins to seep in. everything just stops when you reach for my hand… and I can't stand the heat. Not now, not when- I want you more than anything; just please want me back. Your pinkie the only thing I can grasp… the only part of you I can touch right now as you lead me, with shaking breath and trembling hands, into the empty house.

* * *

><p>Your touch burns, it scalds and scars leaving me covered in you. Your arms pull me farther into you; holding me so close that I can feel your heart beating in time with my own. And I'm just so tired of trying to forget you, of trying to hate and trying to remember exactly why I love you. You feel like home.<p>

"What're you doing?" you grab the back of my shirt into your hands… just like before. We talk in hushed tones, afraid of something we don't know.

"You're shivering." The brush of your lips against my neck… and I can't do this anymore.

"I still want you." this sting of hot tears and the smell of your hair; I miss the lilies.

"You still have me." your hold tightens, as your breath washes over me. I want to believe you- I want to just say fuck it.

"All of you?" you stand frozen; I can even feel you stop breathing… fuck you Brittany. Your hands cling to my shirt as I push you away; and you look at your feet hiding behind your hair like a child.

"Santana-"no. stop. Just stop doing this…stop pretending that everything is going to be ok.

"Forget it. " I can't- I can't be here, I can't look at you without wanting to slap you. I can't just stay here… not when my stomach turns and I feel like I'm burning.

"I still need you…" then you say something like that. Something that makes the hurt go away; something that calms this anger boiling in my blood. "Even if we- I don't know how not to be your friend."

Learn… please just learn before you kill me. With closed eyes I struggle to breathe without you… the world didn't stop. I love you… but the world didn't stop.

"I don't know if I can just be your friend Brit." Not with the memory of your touch or your kiss so vibrant in my mind. Not when I can feel you crawling all over me, controlling me. Possessing me.

"Why? Because I'm with Artie?" no. why don't you get this? I love you… only you.

I want to hold your hand; I want to wake up next to you. I want fall asleep in your arms and be able to kiss you when I want to. I don't want to have to be afraid… scared to walk down these halls; these streets. I don't want to think of what they'll do to you. I can't just pretend anymore; I can't just act like everything's fine when really- honestly whenever I see you with him I can't breathe. I can't go home and cry on my mother's shoulder; I can't crawl into my daddy's lap begging him to make it better. I can't- I can't call my best friend to come over and talk to anymore.

You don't get to act hurt when… when you still have him waiting for you outside this room. You don't get to ask me to pretend anymore; when you screamed for me to stop. To stop pretending that your touch doesn't burn; that your kisses don't linger. That you're all I can think of… you don't get to be the hurt one in this. You don't get to do this… I can't do this anymore.

My fist shaking, my nails biting into my skin; I love you. You don't get to pretend that you love me back. With a saddened glance of your perfect eyes I break… it tears open my chest, letting this scream out, this voice taking over.

"Because I'm gay Brittany." Time is lost again; your hand on my stomach. Your mouth partly open in this surprised way…. I shouldn't want to kiss you right now; I'm supposed to hate you. "I love you…. you can't ask me to just be your friend."

I can't be here anymore… all I can do is fight this hold that you have on me. I just can't be around you… I want to run until my feet give out. I want to run until I can't breathe… I want to be anywhere but here right now.

"Try… please." Then you say that; so weak and broken sounding. Just keep going; just don't look back. I can feel you calling me, pulling me back to you; but for once I have to do this for myself.

The door swings open with barely a touch, and the cold air hits like a hammer. I just said it out loud.

The world collapses unto itself, all air drawn from the hall as everything spins out of control. I just said it out loud… I can feel it start in my chest. This relief; this fear that flows thick and heavy in my veins… I don't want the world to change. I don't want to be someone else, I don't want to scared anymore…I don't want to be different from you. I don't want to be different… I don't want to have to fight anymore; I don't want to have to prove that I deserve to be here. I just wanted you. I just want to stop feeling so… lost.

You. Your touch against my skin… your pinkie wrapped around my own. It's a wave of heat, of racing thoughts that I'll never forget. It's us; you and me… simple. That smile hidden in the corners of your mouth, your lips bare, honest. Your eyes are faded cobalt blue; they glow when you smile, cloud when you're angry… unforgettable. A playful lean into me… I said it. I'm… I'm gay. It's like saying it out loud made it real. This isn't a dream or pretend… this isn't something that will go away.

I need you; I need my best friend.


	10. Chapter 10

**So not really an update, just wondering if anyone is really still reading this? I've been swamped with work lately and haven't had a chance to update just wanting to know if it is still wanted. Your opinion is greatly appreciated, thanks.**


	11. Chapter 11

I just realised that I put up the incomplete one before... I blame work.

Your hand brushes against mine as we walk, pinkies still linked in this silent promise of… I want to say forever. I want to say that it's a promise that we'll love each other until the world tears us apart… but I'm not a kid; I know that this promise is of something heartbreaking and honest. It's because of this that I can't bring myself to look at you. Your touch still burns, it seeps beneath my skin, flows in my veins, it fills my lungs and I don't want to scream anymore. It no longer claws at my throat, suffocating as it lay's kicking in my chest.

"What are you thinking?" your voice doesn't waiver and it demands me to kiss you… it stops my legs from trembling. The first- kiss? Night you slept over? Time I ever thought that I loved you? "You're so serious."

The threat of your hand leaving mine, a painful jolt that pulls me back to you. Your burning touch that soothes all worries, all pain and fear. Your touch that lingers like a breath against my skin as you brush a strand of hair away. Again that shadow of a smile plays across your lips; what flavor is it this week? Watermelon? Root beer? You lick your lips, gingerly biting your bottom one… just like before when I would pretend that I could say no to you.

"No fair." It plays like a silent movie in my head, faded and worn… starting with you licking your lips then slowly, carefully biting your bottom one. "You have to play fair… for this-"

"-do you remember that night?" a quiet whisper, born from the secrecy that is us… my arms twitch as I restrain from holding you.

My muscles ache for your warmth; peaches… I can't hold you. I can't kiss you or touch you without the world screaming for me to stop… it comes in a blare of sirens. You jump, taking half a step back and this twinge in my stomach like I'm being pulled half a step forward. Your hand slips guiltily from mine, and our story is told in a stolen glance and a hidden smile as the world crashes and burns around us.

"God Brittany why the hell do you have that ringtone?" Silenced by the same hands that would tangle in my hair, claw desperately at my back and cling to my arms. He may have you… but I will always have that.

"I don't remember how to change it." Of course, an answer so simple and perfect that for once it doesn't hurt to smile. "Hey. a smile."

What would you do if I kissed you right now? I want to kiss you… the erratic pounding beat of my pulse mixed perfectly with the hiss of our breath. My hand doesn't shake, it just appears reaching for you… and this game begins. You keep your hand close, but never touching… it's too dangerous to touch. Your eyes scare me… I don't know how to hide from them.

"It was raining." A faint twitch of your mouth and you turn your hand.

"Barely drizzling." Your tone playful, sweet like any moment you'll lean in and kiss me on the cheek. And as I blink I can picture your lips against my skin… the way you would smile and take my hand. I was yours and you were mine.

"Pouring." He'll never do this with you… you know like stand- at all.

"Spitting." Eww, that's just gross.

"Eww… that's just gross Brittany." You shrug, letting your fingers curl against my own… my hand flinches from this shock. Running chills and a stuttering heart beat; how cliché.

"my grandma say's it all the time… it's like when god get's pissed off and decides to spit on people; Which is pretty gross now that I think of it." I love the way your mouth moves when you talk, how the words just kind of flow off your tongue. You shiver when I grab your pinkie, and I can almost hear your breath and moans in my ear.

"It is." a soundless laugh as you smile, your nervous… am I making you nervous?

"I couldn't look away, even when we were in the kitchen." I remember the feel of your eyes watching me; my stomach knotted as I stood ready to fall. "Your voice squeaked like a little mouse when you asked if I wanted a coke."

I was nervous; I don't know why… you were just you and I was just me. It was in the air though, this secret that lay embedded in my skin… it shone in your eyes. We had kissed and cautisiously touched before; it was just a dance, fun and innocent. That day… why are you bringing this up? Why now? When I can't touch you like that again?

"Why- why do you care?" you have that little robot now; my stomach turns and it burns in my chest when I think of him even looking at you. I hated this most about the game… when you would get mad or I don't know- but I hated it. "He was just supposed to be part of the game Brittany. It- we weren't supposed to change- I love you… isn't that supposed to mean something?"

Your smile fades as a look of confusion and pain cross your eyes… I want to be your friend. I want to wipe your tears away and hold you. I want to be the one to scream and shout I want to be Santana mother-fucking Lopez again. Not this broken person you left behind… I have to relearn to be that person. The person you loved.

"Santana-." you step forward and I step back; this faint ray of light covers you, and you glow in the fading light.

"-no… I'll see you at school." 87 footsteps and I fight for each one. I fight this urge to look back, to run to you and kiss you like we're in some stupid romance movie. A fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe I hurt you… a fraction of how you hurt me.

80 steps and I falter at the prison walls that I call home… and the only thing I can think of is what I would tell you. That I came home today to a dark house save a single room hidden in the back. I can hear the dying notes linger in the haunting quiet of this house. The muted sound of my own footsteps and this house holds only memories of me and you.

It's a sad comfort to fall at his door; to wait for him to smile- to forget his day and to remember me. Instead he dwells in the past, lost in faded memories of times I can only imagine. he told me a story once; it was late and he sat at the end of my bed staring out my window, watching the sky being torn apart by this brilliant light, jagged and sudden. His voice was quiet, even and steady… I hadn't seen him in 4 days. He spoke of how he fell in love with a girl, how he heard her voice whispered in the wind. He spoke of how she smelled of jasmine from her lotion… and on summer nights when they were apart he would just sit and think of her. I could smell the liquor on him, seeping from him… single malt scotch; how stereotypical of him. He smiled this sad and lonely smile as he hummed, almost whispering how they danced and laughed; he was lost in that faded memory. His smile disappeared as the lightning calmed his voice somehow quieter but still radiant as he said that he misses her. He placed his hand hesitantly on my foot… the only form of comfort he knows. I was eleven… it was the only time he ever left his office on one of these days.

First it's loud, screaming and desperate; then it's calm, soothing and a cry for comfort. He lost someone today; so he paces the floor hidden in haunted memories and thoughts. The faint, almost sweet smell of a cigar- I picture him holding it in his hands absently as he pours another drink.

All the leaves are brown... And the sky is grey.

I use to count the minutes and the hours that it took him to play the song. The pacing would stop and the house would stand still, holding its breath to listen.

I've been for a walk on a winters day.

He doesn't talk about it; he never mentions them… but he misses it.

i'd be safe and warm if i was in L.A.

That sprawling city that screamed of a promise of freedom when his parents carried him in; he could barely open his own eyes. When he fails… he uses it as his cry for comfort. A call for a home I've never seen or known.

California dreamin' on a winters day.

I'm scared Brittany… that one day I will sit and picture you and I'll miss you, and remember you like someone I once loved. I'm scared because one day I might not know you anymore… and no matter how much it hurts; I still love you.

stopped into a church i passed along the way.

So I have to relearn. I have to learn how to fall out of step with you. I have to learn how to not want to hold your hand. I have to learn how to be just your friend… couldn't I just kill the robot instead? It'd be so much easier. I have to relearn… and it scares me. What if I- what if I actually fall out of love with you?

Well I got down on my knees and i pretend to pray.

I keep thinking about everything… and I'm not afraid to love you. I'm afraid of falling out of love with you; I'm afraid of what the world will do because I love you.

"Santana-"mom. She walks with the clicking of her heels stifled and it reminds me of that metronome. Comforting in its own way. "What're you doing out here?"

She smells of expensive perfume used to cover someone; she stands looking her part, the doctor's wife.

You know the preacher likes the cold he knows I'm gonna stay.

There is no comfort in her voice; it's just cold. I always felt weird in your house, like I didn't belong. It was the way your mother would smile with her eyes, this sweeping glance she would give when you walked in… like she wanted to memorize everything about you. Like you were perfect to her; she stares at me, my mother dearest, without ever really seeing me.

"I like this song." Even in its sadness it reminds me of you.

All the leaves are brown and sky is grey.

"Are you alright?" her eyes wander to the door, a tired look of worry etched deep inside her. She doesn't really care… what thing did you have tonight mother? Work or play?

"Yes." Would you care if I told you any different?

"Well then, why don't you go do your homework." the smell of jasmine washes over me as she walks into the room. A glimpse of him staring out the window forever lost.

California Dreamin' on a winters day.

I need you now... I move without thought or care. It's warm, comforting and unrelenting this thought of you.

"hi." Your voice is soft, airy and perfect. It's all that I can say… I don't know what to say. I can't find the right words for this; I can't- I just need you now. You always understand; even when I can't explain.

"hey." Your voice chases away all fear, all doubt leaving this warm calm behind. I can feel the tears threaten but never fall; it's the sigh of your voice that reminds me of home or the closest thing to it.

"hi." I want to tell you everything; I want to scream at you of this suffocating frustration. I want to whisper I love you, I want you, and I need you. I want to say that you're my best friend and I still tell you everything.

"Britt, what kind do you want?" his voice is just a murmur, distant and lost. But hearing it and knowing that you're with him…. everything I want to tell you lay trapped in my throat. This tightness in my chest like someone is squeezing me; tearing the air from my lungs.

"I'll be there in a minute." You say it with a hint of sadness in your voice. A dull pain in my chest like a crack that runs along the ice that threatens to break beneath our feet. "Santana?"

"I miss you too." a strangled sigh of my voice and the world grows silent. Dark but for this memory of you smiling, lost in a dance. Your hand held out as you search for me, begging me to join you. "Do you-"

I can't- I need you to know. Just please understand what I'm trying to say.

"always." we never really needed words did we. There is no need for words just to know that you're there, always.

"Brittany." he calls you… and we say good bye with a sigh and unspoken words.

I'll get you back… if I have to kill that little four eyed nerd.

California Dreaming by the Mama's and the Papa's 


	12. Chapter 12

**I know it's been far too long but I had a crazy month what with TIFF and then I went on vacation right after that... so anyways i wrote this on my iphone on the plane home. Thanks for all the comments, alerts and favourites; it almost validates my attempt at being a wannabe writer. Cheers.**

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><p>Always have a plan; always be ahead… never let them catch you. Be the best.<p>

The only comforting words my parents ever said to me, I use to pretend that they said it for my own good. But I can't pretend anymore... and it scares me because it's all I know. To always be in control… that weakness will destroy you. I wonder what they would do if they knew just how weak and broken I really am.

Heavy footsteps fall just on the other side of the door. Their shadows move, trying desperately to hold me in their cold embrace. I can't stay here, not when these walls whisper of faded memories of me and you. I can't listen to the cold quiet howl of their lost love anymore. This house is too cold, too lost in shadow, I'm suffocating in it's loneliness… it's nothing without you. Times disappears the world spins and I fight to stand, to get away from this place as these walls scream the story of us; of that night.

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><p><em>My hands trembled when I reached for a glass… did you notice that?<em>

I can feel you watching, reading me like I was a book laid bare; I can't hide from you. What the hell is wrong with you Lopez? It's just Brittany; it's just another ordinary day. But the air shifts and I can feel you behind me, warm and terrifying. I shudder from this running chill, electric really, that comes from your hand as it moves along my arm, forcing me to turn.

Your eyes dark, this nervous look flashing across them as you dare me to look away. Blue…they cause this lump in my throat; this feeling in my stomach, no longer a twinge but a burn. All I can think of is how soft your lips are, those chills that run under my skin when you touch me. How perfect you smell; how hard it's been to stop kissing you. Wanky…okay that didn't help; I need to kiss you.

You lick your bottom lip to draw my eye, slowly and carefully biting it to keep it there. Yourself proclaimed move; a nervous laugh and I want to look away… but you know I can't. That sly smile plays across your lips as you lean in; my breath catches; my stomach in a nervous knot as I wait. I'm always waiting. Your breath hot on my skin as you pause before turning to kiss my cheek.

"tease." I can feel you smile into the kiss sending chills down my spine. These chills that snake along every vein and every nerve; straight to my toes.

I let you wash over me, invading every part of me until you take over. The smell of your shampoo, lilies, now faded and that scent that is only yours posses me. Control me. You walk to the den, your hips swaying to a beat I dream of hearing. I should look away, I should move- I should follow you. I should really look away- god I love the way you walk.

"are you coming?" you glance back, and I'll never forget the blue of your eyes.

A weak nod of my head and I try to breathe, I try to get you out of my head. What the hell is happening?

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><p>I turn this corner with this hope that I'll find you there, swaying your hips. Instead I find an empty hall way that leads to a memory of us. Us. I can hear the quiet murmur of their voices behind me as I picture myself walk to meet you. My fingers were brushing against the wall then as they are now; an attempt to figure out if this is real. An attempt to stop myself from trembling; shaking at just the thought of you.<p>

I think about it now and I know that it was there- hidden. It was always there… did you know then?

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><p><em>You weren't there…<em>

A soft creak of floor boards, the fourth step on the main staircase, pulls me to you. You smile back at me, poised and elegant at the top of the stair case, holding your hand out like you need to touch me. This voice whispers in my ear once more, telling me to run. I don't know if it means to you or away… but I pretend for a second that I have the choice. Because in this moment as you wait, watching me climb each step, all thought stops and there is only you.

Just your smile, your laugh, the way you bite your lip when you're nervous. Yourself proclaimed move. God Brittany why do you have to call it that? It's the way you sway your hips and how it's like you're gliding instead of walking. The warm comfort of your hand in mine; and I fall into this fire that is you.

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><p>The air cool like that day; it makes this memory more vivid. Grateful that I never took off this jacket I hug it for warmth, for any form of comfort in this darkened place. I can hear it start again, playing softly on the night air... How can a song make me long so much for something I've never known?<p>

I turn from this place, glancing at the cars in the drive way as I walk past. You like walking, something about really seeing everything. You would spin around, our pinkies still linked, grinning and laughing.

You made that game up, in an attempt to make it fun for me. You would point out something you saw; excited about it every time.

You would point out the roses in the johnson's garden; I would point out the maid's car still sitting in the drive way at 8 at night.

You would wave to the group of boy's playing tag football in the park. I would glare at them until they stopped trying to look up our skirts.

You would hold open the door to help those old ladies with the oddly tinted hair into bingo. I would stand back, trying not to notice how they hugged their purses closer and mumbled slurs under their breathe.

You would dance around that old candy shop we found, smiling as you would pull me close. I would notice the glares and hated looks the owners gave us. Oh and that one guy who always gave you extra candy for a smile. He was just a straight up perve.

Tonight the only thing I notice is that I'm outside your house... And you're not here.

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><p><em>Your lips tasted sweet and fruity... As we stood lost in a kiss. <em>

I can feel it in the way your fingers just brush my cheek, like you're still afraid to touch me. i can feel it coursing through me, as we hesitate for a second… I'm afraid that I can't stop. I don't want to stop kissing you Brittany. What does that mean? You pull me close like you know what I'm thinking… and everything I've wanted to say is whispered in a kiss.

"Brittany-" you pause but don't move, your eyes still closed like you're trying to freeze this moment. Capture it to keep forever.

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><p>It's this cold feeling, as if I'm standing in nothing but a t-shirt in the middle of winter. The flutter of curtains swaying in your living room window as your parents dance around. I can see Emily sneaking around your room... All this while you're eating ice-cream with him.<p>

French vanilla with chocolate fudge and rainbow sprinkles. I still remember.

I can't be here. I can't breath. I can't feel anything... Just this cold. I'll relearn; I promise. My feet move in this steady movement all on their own. I don't have to think, I don't have to do anything but try to breath, try to be someone, anyone, again.

17 minutes later and I'm four stores down from the ice- cream place. Are you still there? With him?

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><p>This sting in my lungs as I draw a shaky breath, I forgot to breath- again. Open your eyes please? Just look at me… I feel like I'm stuck in a free fall, paused just above this ocean of fire. look at me. I need to know that it's okay to drown; to let go of everything just to kiss you once more. Your eyes flutter open as you gently lean your forehead against mine, your hand falling to my chest and grabbing the front of my shirt. In a single glance I fall. You gasp against my lips, you stumble back when I step forward, laughing quietly when you fall back onto the hall table.<p>

I need you. I need to touch you. Hold you. Taste you. I need you close. you shiver under my touch when I pull you closer. These flames flicker closer to us when you wrap your leg around me; holding me even closer. you moan when I kiss this spot just below your ear on your neck... a simple sound that stills my pounding heart for a second.

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><p>"Santana?" a voice questions in this steady voice.<p>

"hi." why is that all I can say lately? "what are you guys doing here?"

Why do i jump when I see Kurt and spaz - I don't actually know his name. All I know is that he's part of the school that stole porcelin from us.

"going for coffee, it's kind of our thing." He leans into the spaz, a look of pure adoration on his face. I kind of miss you Kurt... I have no idea why.

"what are you doing tonight?" The guy smiles politely, eyes sparkling like everything is perfect.

"just walking around," they've mentioned his name before. What is it?

Kurt waves to someone, them, behind me. I don't know what to do... Should I turn and wave too? My stomach turns at the thought of her leaning over his wheel chair whispering in his ear. Spaz, god it's annoying me that I can't remember his name, glances over then back to me. A knowing look on his face, and for once it doesn't annoy me.

"hey, if you don't have anything to do then why don't you join us?" wait what? Why?

"join us?" a hesitated sigh in his voice as looks at him then me. "yeah Santana why don't you join us? Mercedes and Rachel should be here soon; it'll - be fun."

Yeah none of that sounds fun... A laugh that ring's loud and clear comes from across the street. I can't be here anymore, I can't see them. I can't be alone anymore... I hate this.

"sure why not, Mercedes still owes me a coffee anyway." why do I want to laugh when you quirk your eyebrow like that Kurt? I swear you stole that from me.

" ok... Well what have you guys been up to? Besides beating us senseless at regionals?" Kurt turns smiling as Face smirks when he open's the door with a little bow for us. "what a gentlemen."

I use to do that for you; you would try to hide that smile as you walked past.

"after you my lady." ok you're just weird.

"thanks?" I'm hoping that was for Kurt.

" so come on dish, what've you been up to?" I never thought you cared Kurt.

"oh you know the same old; ruling the school like a boss." what the hell am I suppose to say?

That I lost Brittany and am now a sniffling little mess? Yeah that'll go over well.

You looked at me like that once; like I was perfect and beautiful.

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><p>"Santana," you force me to look at you. the sound of your breath, quick and shallow, fills my head like smoke.<p>

Your kiss is slow, sweet at first until it turns possessive and heated. Everything blurs in this heated haze and time fades away as we move. Stumbling fingers tangling in hair, fighting zippers and buttons. Heated kisses on skin, on lips; hesitant bites and I can't stop. Please don't make me stop.

I don't actually know how to have... Sex with a girl.

"britt." i'm only in my underwear... How the hell did that happen? " britt stop for a second."

A quick sweet kiss, that quiets this hammering heart beat, this sudden gripping fear in my stomach.

" what's wrong?" if we do this then there's no going back. How have I lost control so fast?

Another kiss, this look in your eyes like you can't stop this either. You fingers running through my hair, twirling a strand around your finger and nothing matters anymore. I need you.

A chaste kiss as you dig your nails into my back, it stings for a second. Making my breath catch; your skins soft beneath my touch. It's wet... I don't know that surprises me but it does. Your breath is kind of shaky in my ear, low and perfect. I could die happy kissing you; this sharp pain in my bottom lip as you struggle to breath.

"ow... Are you ok?" your hands in my hair, your mouth searching for something I don't know. Something I don't understand and that scares me.

You're soft and warm, as we fight to be closer for an answer to whatever this is. Shaking, shallow breath against my ear breaking and catching as this rhythm builds. Roaming hands, no longer hesitant, try to memorize... Mimic. Your leg pulling me closer... your fingers rough and sudden.

"Brittany."

This rushing of blood deafening in my ears, it falls and rises. almost swirling with the sound of her beneath me. This heat coursing from her to me, moving in violent waves that tumble over each other. Rising, building as you twist and contort... Your back arching against me. Your nails biting into my arms, eyes squeezed tight. You grip me tight, trembling in my arms.

"oh fuck...Santana." never stop saying my name like that...

"oh god."

It's this ball of fire that just explodes. Burning, suffocating and endless... A shower of dying embers fall against a sea of black, cut with streams of a perfect blue. Your hands moving in this soothing pattern across my back.

Innocent kisses moving along my collar bone. This quiet falls thick, warm and comforting. I can hear the faint beat of your heart, your hand in my hair begging me to look at you.

" hey," if I didn't see your mouth move I would've thought it a sigh.

" hey." a shadow of a smile plays across your lips; why do you scare me and excite me at the same time? "you're beautiful."

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><p>"wait karofsky did what to you?" he almost chokes on his coffee as I say it. "should we be worried? Are the cops after you now?"<p>

He leans forward grabbing a napkin from spaz face.

" wait what would the cops have to with this?" oh poor boy he doesn't know who I am.

"well I'm assuming she killed him or at least maimed him. Which I know I shouldn't be supporting violence but he deserves to be hit." He deserves more than that, he drove him out of school. He should be run over a couple of times.

"as sweet as that is Kurt I didn't hit him," my coffee is cold. How long have we been here? "yet."

" oh what are you planning? Please tell me it involves some form of public humiliation."

"Kurt!" his name is brad... no wait that's tinkles name. I'm going to call him... Brady; you liked that show.

"I haven't-"

"Hey guys; Santana?" I would call you Franklin but that would probably be considered a compliment. "What're you doing here?"

"Why hello Mercedes, it's... nice to see you too. Oh thanks I would love a coffee, I mean I almost completely forgot about you owing me one." she rolls her eyes in that practiced way that just annoys the hell out of me. " That F.Y.I Mercedes was a polite conversation... you're welcome."

"Evening Kurt, Blaine." I like Brady better; "San- Santana hello. I didn't know you were joining us tonight."

" Can it hobbit, I'm here for my free non-fat shot of cinnamon extra foam caramel latte. Mercedes here kindly offered." god I love messing with these people, it's so amusing.

It almost makes this easier... they distract from this dull ache that still thuds in my chest.


	13. Chapter 13

**So the next chapter is probably going to jump ahead a little. Honestly I only have like maybe three more chapters left of this story… Sorry for sucking at updating, I write when I get the chance. **

**Thank you to everyone that reads this. I just needed to say that.**

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><p>The days start to bleed together, it's all starts out the same... my alarm clock goes off at 5:30 even now. I can hear them move just outside my door, the soft shuffle of their feet and I close my eyes thinking of you. I'm always thinking of you... I don't think that will ever change. Everything in this town whispers of you; it screams of us of what we were and what we could be. It screams Brittany. A single blaring sound and it makes me smile, even now when all I want is to just... stay lost here in this thought of me and you. I really hate this stupid ring tone it sounds like a huge ass truck horn; now all I can think of is old gross truckers. Thanks Brit. How did you even get my phone to change the stupid ringer? I hate that you can still make me smile and laugh...<p>

"Santana?" God, not today... please just not today. "It's time to get up; we'll be leaving for breakfast at six."

She doesn't wait for an answer or even for me to acknowledge her. Today is going to suck... I can feel my mouth twitch when my phone goes off again. I hate mornings, I hate the third Monday of the month, and I hate that hearing that ring tone makes my stomach turn. I hate that I already know what you texted... and it's going to make me smile. I should get up. I should shower, get dressed and prepare for this stupid thing. My phone beeps in reminder that you're still here, still just under my skin, flowing thick in my veins.

The first text - **It'sBrittanyBitch**: Good morning Santana!

The second text- **It'sBrittanyBitch**: Get your Bum out of bed! I'll give you 5 more minutes then I'm going to be an angry panther!

When did you change your name in my phone? One day I'll have you figured out. The phone rings in my hand, 1 text from **It`sBrittanyBitch.**

It`s a picture this time... you stare in the camera like you`re really angry pointing at me. I missed you so freaking much.

"Santana Lopez get out of bed and get downstairs. Now." Sometimes I wonder if he needs to be reminded of my name.

"Ok dad," today is still going to suck... because you`re still with him Brittany.

Different moments play as if projected around me; they fade and glow as I move in this strange dance… afraid that if I step on one of these shadows that I'll ruin them. I can't escape them, I don't want to lose them and at the exact same time I hate them. The history of us written so deeply in these walls, these streets, this town… what if I lose them? I'm too tired to fight these pull you have over me, I'm too tired to pretend that I don't know what this thing inside of me is… I'm tired of being afraid to lose you when I already have.

I see my bed unmade and I think of the snow day we had last year. I hid under the blankets, warm and happy until you jumped on me squealing as we fought over the blanket. I see my bed unmade and I think of waking up to gentle kisses running down my back; I think of soft touches that slowly moved along my skin. I looked at this bed and I dream of your arms, your legs tangled with mine; I dream of your head resting on my shoulder, your hand gripping my shirt.

I walk these floors and I think of every step of every dance we ever did here. I can almost feel your hands just brushing over my skin. I walk past this bed and I see you cross legged, smiling as we talked for hours of nothing and everything. The slight squeak of the closet door and I'm fourteen, nervously searching for an outfit to our first high school party. The soft worn wool of a sweater you forgot here; a white tank top that I pulled off of you with trembling hands. A ratty t-shirt that you wore when you were sick or sad… a tear in the neck line where I would kiss you; it still smells like you. This old vanity table we carried home, that we chanted bloody Mary into three times… that you leaned against when I kissed your neck. The coursing heat of your legs wrapped around me, that haunting beat your hips sway to.

Today started just like any other day, my alarm went off at 5:30 even now. The quiet sounds of them beyond my door… the cold sheets on your side of the bed, always the right. Quinn use to joke how we were the perfect opposites, you on the right, warm, sweet and caring; me on the left, cold, abrasive and mean… my bad to your good. I'm tired of being scared; I'm tired of waking up knowing you're his… I'll do anything just please tell me what to do to get you back.

"Santana, it's time to go." Today is going to suck… just like everything other day.

* * *

><p>``Dr. Lopez, it`s nice to see you. Would you like your usual table?" Jenny, she's like 40 years old has some kid that graduated last year from McKinley. She's nice; she makes the best coffee in town. "Mrs. Lopez you look lovely today, and Santana I heard you won that big singing thing. Congrats."<p>

Shit. I didn't even tell them about that, well then again that's what these breakfast meetings are for. She hands us each a menu, this look in her eye like she actually thinks we'll get something different. Do you remember the one time you came along to one of these things? You asked Jenny if they could make your pancakes into shapes, like they do at Disneyland. I'm not thinking about you right now, I'm thinking about how the hell I'm supposed to explain how I got a C on my last math quiz.

"Santana mind your manners." He speaks in this low grumble, like he's not feeling too well today. I wonder why.

"Sorry; I- we did, our Glee club just won our sectionals." She turns my mug over, about to poor the coffee when mommy dearest covers it absently like she cares.

"She's not old enough for coffee." She looks over the menu, out of habit I guess. Jenny just glances at me and rolls her eyes; they don't know that we would come here on weekends.

"Well then do you all know what you're going to get?" She has this tired look on her face, like this is all just a waste of time.

"We'll have what we usually have, plus a bigger mug." He hands the menu over without looking at her; he never does. "Santana, how is school going?"

I'm failing out, quit cheerios, in glee club, thinking about saving up my allowance to run away and become a stripper. Oh and I got my heart broken by my best friend who I'm in love with. Oh by the way my best friend, the one you can't really remember, is a girl.

"Ok." You also don't really like my best friend; you think I should hang out with all of your coworker's kids.

"Just ok?" She looks over at me waiting for an answer, waiting for me to tell her in detail what's going on in my life. I would believe her if her eyes didn't keep darting to the clock.

"Have you spoken to your cheerleading Coach?" He nervously taps his fingers across the table, his phone close by like he wants it to ring.

"Not by choice." Fuck; why did I say that?

"What did she say about you rejoining next year?" He jumps when Jenny places a bigger mug in front of him, then a glass of orange juice in front of me. I hate orange juice... always have.

"I didn't ask her."

"Santana, you really need to be thinking about your future. Being a captain of a top cheerleading squad is what Ivy League schools are looking for. I mean your little singing group is great and all, it adds to your application but it's a waste of time." She smiles this cold fake smile when Jenny start's to refill her mug.

"Not if we win Nationals," once upon a time his eyes glowed with this intensity. They would soften and almost melt when he would look at me... like he loved me.

"You haven't been putting in enough hours at the hospital." He slowly unfolds his napkin leaning back so Jenny doesn't accidentally drop any food on him.

Fruit salad with vanilla yogurt; when I'm with you I get the blueberry waffles with whip cream instead of syrup. You get the chunky monkey pancakes, you drink chocolate milk; I drink coffee with two creams and one sugar. We sit in the booth at the back, it's almost hidden. Sometimes you would run your foot up my leg as you looked out the window, waving to people as they got out of their cars.

"I'm scheduled for Wednesday after school and this weekend." I can see the booth perfectly from here.

"I hear from Elizabeth St. James that her son will be visiting soon." Not this again.

"You should arrange a dinner with the family when he's back. Santana needs to socialize with better children." He happily answer's his phone on the first ring. "Yes- no I said 50 mills and what about a sedative?"

"You know that Jesse is going to school for music right? I mean he was in his glee club."

"Yes dear, only his little club won nationals sweetheart. It also got him a scholarship to one of the best music schools in the country." She reaches for her phone refusing to even glance at me. "Oh shoot my trainer has to reschedule today. I guess I'll have to email Judy about postponing the spring luncheon meeting."

About 15 minutes, that's almost a record if you don't count all the times they've both been too hung over to move. She leaves first, gently placing a 50 on the table by her untouched egg white cheese omelet. He stands before she even reaches the door, placing a 100 dollar bill on top of the 50.

"If you get another C you'll lose your car for a month." He's forgotten that he took my keys when I quit Cheerios... and that he drove me here.

"Hey sweetie, you want that coffee now?" Jenny with her tired eyes, worn out uniform and smirk like she has this all figured out.

"Sure why not." That stupid ring tone, I should really just change it... but for some reason that I want to pretend I don't know prevents me from doing it.

"So nationals huh?" She sits in his seat, pouring her own cup.

"Yeah, it's in New York." She hands me the cream and grabs the sugar, in this practiced motion.

"New York, I always wanted to go there." She cuts up the sausage on his plate, covering them in ketchup as she mixes them up with the scrambled eggs. "Al always gets all offended if I don't at least make it look like your ol' man took a bite."

"He's busy, worrying about his patients all the time." It leaves my tongue before I even think up the line. She doesn't know anything about us... just these stupid breakfasts.

"The life of a doctor; so where's your little friend? The ditzy blonde." at least one person noticed.

"Just been busy." Her gaze lingers too long, and this cold washes over me in a wave of panic. Do you know? "Look this has been swell or something, but I've got a life and important things to do so I'm going to leave."

Can you hear it in my voice? Can you hear how it waivers, catching in my throat as I try to swallow like my mouth is too dry. I really hate orange juice; you got it even though I don't really know why I hate orange juice. I just do; oranges are fine. Her gaze still lingers, that smirk on her face like she has everything figured out. She sips her coffee slowly, never looking away when I grab the 50…I don't need money; I have money. They make sure of that. She could use it, her kid's in college somewhere. She raises her cup in some form of silent thanks and I can't help but glance to the booth once more.

I can picture us sitting there still… like we never left. You're still smiling as you lean forward to sip your chocolate milk. I can feel the laugh on my lips, and that crawling heat as your foot brushes my own under the table. My fingers twitch as if I'm grabbing my plate to switch, the thought of your fingers on mine making me nervous. That ease of just being around you, no t hought or fear; just us. I miss that, this place and you… I miss us. When I was nine I told my nanny, well a housekeeper turned accidental nanny, that as soon as I was old enough I was going to run away. She smiled the second warmest smile I've ever seen, yours is the first, and said in the softest voice.

"_You'll miss it luciérnaga; when you grow up you'll realize that the small things are what you need not big extravagant moments."_

We were in the kitchen I was sitting in the same spot you sat in on that night. She was making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, my favourite then. There was a snow storm outside, my father was called to the hospital and my mother was stuck at the club house. I never understood what she meant until now… I miss the way your nose wrinkles before you wake up. I miss how you would lean into me when we sat next to each other during study hall. I miss your foot playfully brushing against mine on Sunday mornings, when you would sip your chocolate milk like nothing was happening.

Jenny clears her throat, breaking this trance, her eyes warm but distant as she watches me. She nods once as a good bye, turning back to her coffee as I turn to leave. It's only 6:25; my phone screams as my hand touches the door** It'sBrittanyBitch** flashing just below your smiling face.

**It'sBrittanyBitch**-non-fat shot of cinnamon extra foam caramel latte with a ham and cheese croissant?

It still surprises me that you know me so well; my phone rings as I finish reading.

**It'sBrittanyBitch**-I didn't know lattes could be fat or non-fat. They all come in the same cup so I just always thought they were all equal. I guess they only have one size fits all though.

I don't know what to say to that… I hate that you can make me laugh.

It'sBrittanyBitch-how do lattes work out? I mean to get from fat to non-fat, do they diet and work out or just get surgery like that one scary star lady did?

I should probably stop you, this could go on for a while... also I might need a ride. I don't want people to actually see me walking like a poor person does.

**Me**- non-fat milk Brit. Also pick me up?

The sky is this light greyish blue, the city stirs before me like a promise that today is a new day.

**It'sBrittanyBitch**-think I get it… so the cows are the ones that exercise then? Also already here.

**It'sBrittanyBitch**-P.s the coffee lady doesn't know if cows workout or not. P.s again, what does p.s stand for?

**Me-** post script. I'll be there in fifteen.

"Hey Santana," his voice is prettier than mine. I've just decided that I hate him for that. "Where are you headed at this ghastly hour?"

He also likes to use the vocabulary words from English, but then again he use to make me laugh during that class.

"Conan hair," he'll get weirded out if I don't insult him once and a while. "If you must know, I am headed to the lima bean."

"Interesting," he cocks that eyebrow like he owns the move. Boy please, just because you're just as much of a girl as me doesn't me you can steal my look. "I happen to be meeting a certain fellah there, want a ride?"

"Sure, but just this once." He quickly fixes some invisible stray hair in the mirror, turning the radio up as I close the door. "I'm surprised you're not listening to show tunes, I mean aren't they the school song at Dalton?"

"Funny; I would probably say the school song is closer to a pink number rather than the classics." He doesn't even bother to look at me when he say's it. "But then again I would guess that your taste is along the same lines; you wouldn't know your Barbara from your Judy."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." I can feel it starting already, this pull… this heat pooling in my stomach. "Besides all I have to do is go by nose size... do you meet Brady-"

"-Blaine."

"-Blaine, whatever; every morning?" why do I care?

"Not always just once or twice since we've started dating. Why are you going there anyways? I figured since you quit the cheerios, I heard from Mercedes before you ask that you would be indulging in the luxury of sleeping in." of course loud mouth Medea told him.

"I'm used to waking up early and I refuse to make my own breakfast." I never really know what to say or do when I'm around people. I just act like I'm supposed to; but for once, outside of being around you, I feel ok.

"Ok then. Well we're here… so I don't know exactly what you want to do now…" oh please like I want to watch you and spazzy McGee undress each other with your eyes.

"Flattering but I'm meeting someone." He opens the door, already searching for him… and I want to pretend that I'm not searching for her; but who are we kidding.

You sit doodling on a napkin, your foot moving to that beat in your head. You're perfect. A stuttering heartbeat, your name whispered in my ear as you pull me close. You glance up as if someone is calling your name; that shy smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

"Hi." When you look at me like that… I could cry. I could scream till my lungs give out, I could run as far as they'd let me… I could love you with no fear. "I got your coffee and breakfast."

"thanks." You hesitate to hug me, to even just touch me. It feels like someone just squeezed my heart. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know… so how did it go?" I love your eyes; they're so honest and warm.

"How it always go." You're still biting your nails, I think you may be the only person in history who likes the taste of that bitter nail polish. "Jenny say's hi."

Every muscle on fire from a simple touch of your fingers against mine; I missed this.

"Hey look the fairy queen found himself a little princess." It cuts like glass, jagged and quick, tearing our hands, our eyes our world apart.

They're sitting across from each other, Warbler leaning on his elbows as Kurt smiles. It changes so sudden from something innocent to this cold that snakes along the floor like mist. Their eyes darken, colour draining from their blushing cheeks… I'm going to be sick. My lungs burn, my stomach turns as some kid no older than 12 sneers at them. Please don't look over here, please just stop. A man; a grown man that should know better sniggers as he spits on the ground next to their table. The world crumbles, burning beneath my feet as I fall on solid ground. It lays thick in the air, suffocating and bitter… I'm going to be sick. This isn't what I want… can they see? Do they know about me?

The loud echoing scrape of chairs moving, hushed tones of useless words as they turn away. Chased out because they love each other… I can't be here. I can't... my lungs scream in agony for air, for this struggling heart to beat. I can feel the acidic burn rising my throat, dry and closed… there is nothing I can say that'll make this okay. There is nothing I can do… other than this to make sure you'll never be hurt,

"Santana. Where are you going?" her voice in the only thing I can hear… it echoes like a lullaby in this dark.


	14. Chapter 14

In stolen glances your smile waivers, I can't stop watching you; wanting you. I'm scared to be around you now, afraid that my touches will linger too long, that they'll drag me under and I'll lose myself in you again. I'm afraid that one day I won't be able to stop from kissing you. My hands tremble and shake when I'm around you, close to you. I sit memorizing you, every twitch of your mouth and crinkle of your eyes…there's something different about you.

When you're with him you smile, the look in your eyes is something I can't explain; it's something I haven't seen before. The look in your eyes is warm and bright; a summer's day when you're with him...when you smile at me it's like staring at the sun; pure blinding fire.

I can feel your gaze, piercing and hot wander over me when you think I'm not paying attention. It breaks my heart each time, to play this unforgiving game…to pretend that I can just be your friend. This double edge sword still draws blood, no matter how I hold it.

These listless days crawl by, bleeding into one, fragmented by moments that surround you. A shy smile and a nervous blush when we pass each other in the halls; catching each other in quiet moments. Hours spent trying to relearn, counting steps and touches. Hours spent talking about everything but what we really want to say. I feel so lost without you; even though you're next to me waving as you walk into class. That smile is mine, only mine.

"Hey kid." he nods once in passing, it brings me crashing down each time.

Pulling me back to solid ground, like a life line thrown as I struggle to keep from drowning. He walks until the crowd disappears and we race to be the first one out. It never fails, whether I win or not, he's always calmly turning the silver case twice before he holds it out. We stand in quiet disobedience, screaming in silence waiting for the other to break first. Leaning against the wall so close to that room; we're so close to a feeling of home.

"A night of neglect?" he stares at me like I'm the reason we had to suffer through that thing.

"Blame Rachel Berry." I don't know why but I've decided that she's the reason we have to do all these stupid things. She pushes too hard, fights too earnestly. She wants too much. "You owe me $50 by the way."

"Its heart warming how you bet against your own little team." a worn out black leather wallet, holding a single picture and a couple bills.

A black and white picture of a girl, she stands laughing as the wind runs through her. His thumb moves over it in an absent minded motion, a habit he doesn't know about.

"I didn't; I bet against the Asian version of berry. They were all naive to believe that she would actually be able to help us." the one thing coach Sylvester ever taught us; people are selfish. You only have yourself to rely on. I didn't believe that before... I'm trying to forget it. I am.

"Interesting take on life there kid." he looks at me with this searching gaze, like he's trying to figure me out. Like he understands what I'm saying but doesn't believe I'm saying it. "So what song were you going to sing?"

"Does it matter? It was a stupid assignment; who wants to listen to bad songs by a loser artist? "He looks down quickly counting out the bills before he hands them over. He holds my hand for a second longer than needed... The look in his eyes screams bull shit. "Crystallized' by the xx or maybe 'your mangled heart' by gossip."

Ok wow that sounded gayer than I thought it would. He smirks like the ass hole he is, a slow shake of his head as he takes his last drag.

"Go to class kid." the words masked with smoke, it drop's from his hand crushed from his foot in a practiced step.

"Study hall." A shaky drag as the smoke begins to burn; I want to say that I don't like it. That it makes me sick, only it doesn't. It's a simple act of defiance against everyone and thing in this; a simple act of defiance against you. This quiet defiance; It's all I really have.

"Pretend then... I'm still a teacher-" he turns away as I take one last drag.

"Barely, you just play the piano." he taught me some scales, left hand first. He said that everyone learns the right hand first, and then didn't speak for the rest of the lesson, he just played.

"Door closes and-" he walks to the door as always, pausing to run his hand along the frame. I still can't figure it out.

"You're gone, not the first time I heard you." I drop the cigarette, watching the dying tendrils of grey that fight as I step with a careful foot to put it out. I can feel his eyes on me and there is no judgment from him. No hate, no leering, no disgust.

"Oh and hey kid..." a look like he's about to voice something we both refuse say."Just, at least pretend to go to class."

"Yeah. Whatever." he opens the door, quietly stepping back into the stifling halls. A count to five lame-ass-hick towns and I step in.

"Santana?" fuck me. Why is it that I'm always the one to get caught? I'm so ratting you out next time tinkles.

"What?"

Quinn with her cutting gaze that tears these walls apart, exposing nothing but loneliness. It elicits that smug smirk, like she can read me; like she knows me. Careful Quinn, I can see you too.

"nothing, just bored." it's the way she says it, calm and calculated, that scares me; it's too similar to her. To Mother dearest. "Feel like skipping study hall?"

"To do what? Go pray?" this slight grip around my lungs, and I want to say more. I want to scream for her to stop. Just stop.

"Do you always have to be a bitch?" don't you see Quinn... I'm drowning too.

"Do you always have to be perfect?" her step falters and she pauses turning to look at one of her prom court posters. Adjusting it... This is for her; all about her. Finn doesn't matter to her, not really; and they think I'm the bitch. "Don't let your smile falter... They might see."

Her body stiff, poised to fight or to run and I welcome it. I let the coursing red heat run, thick in my veins, laying a haze over this place. My fingers twitch as they curl into a fist, nails biting skin. This feeling in my chest growing stronger, thrumming just behind my rib cage, as I think of you Brittany. As I think of Karofsky, of Kurt and Blaine. Yeah I know his name now so what, doesn't mean I like him. I think of the church signs, the dirty looks, and the cold voice counting the number of suicides every night. It's surrounding us Brittany, watching us... Suffocating us. I'm tired of pretending, I'm tired of hiding, and I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired Brittany and I hate it.

"One day Santana..." she pauses, like whatever she wants to say is trapped. A sad hope lingering idle on her tongue that quickly fades. "Come on, I think puck stole the keys to the auditorium."

Once upon a time we found solitude in the roar of the gym, the heat of the football field. We sat in silence, waiting for something to happen; for something to begin. Now we lock ourselves in a room, getting lost in movement, in the screams of music. The racing beat of drums; drown ourselves in words we can't find ourselves. It's a lapse of time once more, a well known path that we find blindly. A soft hum that cuts along this haze it eases this pressure in my lungs. Voices that weave into one sound, followed by the quiet strum of a hollowed guitar.

"Hey, one of you choose the next song." puck call's over his shoulder without actually turning around. He just taps out the beat on the body, as Tina sits behind the piano.

"Just play something we can dance to." everything stops at the sound of your voice... It snakes along my skin, hot and electric. It makes my stomach drop, like the floor's given out.

"If you had to describe everyone in glee with a song what would it be?" Tina slowly, mindlessly plays scales as you walk from the side, leisurely pulling back your hair. Quinn brushes her hand along your arm as she passes sitting next to Tina. "I would probably say just dance for you Britt."

My body hums for you, this voice whispering your name like it always does. You glance over, beckoning for me as that shy smile plays across your lips. It's moments like this; quiet, innocent, that steals all the air. It makes this erratic heart beat stumble, stop and start again.

"Oh yeah and what is mike's? Footloose?" puck leans in grabbing for the sheet music, playful and sweet.

"Shut up puck." she hits his hand, moving the papers away.

"Then yours is 'me so horny' Puckerman." Finn's voice comes out of nowhere, he nudges my arm as he walks past, and grinning like the fool he is.

"Screw you Frankenteen." my leg's tremble with each step, they almost fail me as I climb the stairs. "You wanna jam?"

"What're you thinking?" they move to the drum kit, murmuring amongst themselves.

You lean against the piano, grabbing the sheets from Tina. Your foot moving in time to the song scrawled out on it. I stop close enough to feel the heat radiating from you, stopping far enough away so I can't touch you accidentally. A full 2 steps away, do they notice? Are we too close for them? This unease envelope me as I quickly glance around scared that they'll change. Scared that they'll look at us like the candy shop owners, scared that they flinch away in disgust like the old ladies from bingo.

But then your hand absently reaches for mine as you lean across the piano. Your pinkie curls, just brushing my left hand as you whisper to Quinn. You glance at puck as he begins to play a song, your eyes sweeping over me with that heated gaze. Quinn jumps up, pulling Tina along with her as Finn starts in.

_"I can't get no satisfaction. I can't get no satisfaction."_

You smile, hand moving down my arm as you skip over to them. Your hips swaying hypnotically as Finn sing's first, letting us jump in without care; and I forget as puck walks over, hand extended to playfully twirl me around.

_"'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try. I can't get no, I can't get no."_

I've heard the whispers; that I was just using him. That I'm lucky, cheap, and sad because he ran around on me. I wanted to like him, I did... I was just confused. Scared because I wanted you, not him... It was my idea. That sex wasn't dating; no that would mean I was his and not yours. And that terrified me; this thought of being yours. Of being his. You terrify me.

_"When I'm drivin' in my car _

_And that man comes on the radio _

_He's tellin' me more and more."_

Your hand on my back as we jump around; I want you. In this crowd of voices yours is all I hear. I just want you; and I know you want me too. I can feel it in your gaze, I can feel it your touch. I can feel it in the air.

I can't control how I feel about you... I hate that.

_"About some useless information _

_Supposed to fire my imagination _

_I can't get no, oh no, no, no _

_Hey hey hey, that's what I say."_

Through this thick warm haze of sleep I feel you stirring almost in time to the song. You set the alarm, why would you set the alarm on a Saturday?

"I hate this song." you're lying next to me, your skin touching mine. A cold shiver runs along my spine when you move away to turn off the alarm.

"I like it... Hi." you whisper it in a breath, your touch soft as you gently brush hair out of my eyes. I sleep in on Saturday's; you know that.

I kissed you last night. I touched your naked skin, I held you close. I whispered in your ear, I stared into your eyes. Like now... like I couldn't- can't look away.

"hi." it catches on my tongue; you're still here.

The blinds half open, jagged lines of light falling into the room catching in your hair, your eyes... your mouth. Your lips slightly swollen, parted as you stare. Your foot moves across my leg, over my ankle drawing me to you once again.

"hi." it leaves your lips on a breath as you smile pulling away as I try to kiss you.

Your hand falls lightly on my arm, wrapping into my hair when we kiss. I thought that this would go away, that this would stop if- last night. Last night was supposed to stop this but instead it makes me want you more.

_"I can't get no satisfaction _

_No satisfaction, no satisfaction, no satisfaction."_

You laugh as the song ends pulling away, hiding behind your hair. God I want you.

"Why would you set the alarm on a Saturday?" You're still naked. You smell amazing, sweet, sweaty, and like faded lilies. That's just unfair...we just woke up. You shouldn't smell so good.

"I have dance at 9 on-" I like how your breathe catches when I kiss this spot on your neck. "Santana."

Your fingers curl against my back, nails biting tender skin. That really hurt.

"Ow, that kind of hurt Britt."

"Sorry... I've got to get ready." you kiss your fingertips before you gently touch the scratches; I don't know if they're new or from last night. "will you come dance with me?"

I've been trying to fight this voice, trying to fight this impulse to kiss you. Touch you, hold you... Make you gasp my name again. Stop. Nothing has changed; we're still Brittany and Santana. We're just us.

But it shows. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me; like you know the answer to some question. A secret that you tried to tell me but I couldn't- can't figure it out. I can feel it when we're together, this need to be close to you; touching you.

I hate school, I hate this town. I hate this state and I hate these people... I still want to kiss you. I want to hold your hand and kiss you. I want to take your uniform off... Maybe even try to unzip it with my teeth. I saw that in a movie once, it was kind of hot. No; just think of something else. Just stop thinking about it; look at Finn. He is not attractive at all; kind of look's like the town idiot.

It happens without thought, just a brush of a hand, either mine or yours. Your touch still heated and electric, yet comforting... I get lost in it. That terrifies me, I don't know what to do or say. I don't know anything about it other than the fact that I can't stop thinking about that night. I can't stop thinking about you; you're taking over.

"I wish I was alive in the sixties." your hand brushes mine again and again and again. "We were doing a couple dances from then in class on Saturday. It was fun... And I liked the song we sang for Quinn and Finn."

Your pinkie snakes around my own, and this thought, this screaming urge to push you against the lockers and kiss you takes over.

"hey." his voice low, cold sounding as he steps in front of me. "Where were you Saturday?"

"I guess I forgot." your hand drops from mine as you walk away, glancing back once as he puts his hand on my hip.

"What're you looking at?" you don't even blink when he stares. "Have I ever told you how hot it would be if you two kissed?"

His fingers dig into my skin painfully as he kisses me. He kind of growls or something... All I can think of is you. What it's like to kiss you. How soft your lips are; how tentative you are with your tongue. I imagine your hands moving along my neck, playfully tangling in my hair.

I shouldn't be thinking of you when I'm with him. I shouldn't be thinking of you at all... But I can't stop. I can't do anything but want you, and I hate that I can't control that. God what the hell is he trying to do with his tongue?

"Ok, you can go now." he smirks like usual and I want to smack him. I just want to hit him until I can't lift my arms. "I missed breakfast this morning so think you could run and get me a bagel or something?"

"I can get you whatever you want sweet cheeks." he tries to wink and it reminds me of really cheesy old men who think they're still hot. "One blue berry whole wheat bagel coming your way."

He remembered my favorite bagel, I should be flattered. Excited. Happy. For some reason all I care about is that he better not forget the low fat cream cheese. All I care about is that you poured me my favorite cereal before you poured your own. You made fruit punch when I was in the shower, because all we had was orange juice. I like that you remembered that I hate orange juice.

Absently turning the corner and I am met with you flirting with Mike Chang. It's this dull ache in my chest, this feeling like my stomach is in knots. To see him leaning next to your locker, his back packs slung on one shoulder. To see you smile at him like he matters; and I can't stop this flood of images from that night. I can't stop this feeling like I'm stuck in quick sand. Like none of it matter's because we're just Santana and Brittany. Nothing else.

I loved glee club back then; it was fun and so different. How has it changed so much? I feel like we're losing what it was and no one cares enough to fight for it. No one really fought for Kurt, and I know that- that I can be mean. I know that I hurt him too; that I didn't stop him from leaving. But I can see it in his eyes, this far away look when he walks down these halls. As awesome as an all boys school with a full tailored uniform must be for him… he misses this place. The aggravating thing about all of it is that I don't understand why.

I want to scream, here, now in this moment I want to scream until I can't scream anymore. I want to scream until my throat grows raw and they grow silent. I want to scream until someone finally understands enough to make me stop. How did you do it Kurt? How did you survive this? How am I supposed to survive this? How did you stop- what do I have to do to get past this fear? How do I make her mine? Why do you miss this place?

"Hey…" you tuck a strand of hair that keeps falling out, behind your ear. You stop by my feet, nervously studying the ground before you move to sit down. "You're quiet."

"Sometimes I want to be quiet." The faint ringing of a guitar note as puck and Finn read over a new song. Tina and Quinn move around us, stopping then murmuring amongst themselves as they try it all over again. If I screamed right now would any of them care?

"I'm helping out with Abby's dance class tomorrow." You hug your knees to your chest that strand falling from behind your ear. "Will you come?"

I never really cared about theatre or singing or any of this before. You thought it would be fun, Quinn thought there was no choice and I was just bored. I miss watching you dance, I miss Abby. I miss waiting for you outside of the studio with an iced caramel latte with extra whip cream to share. I miss dancing with you when it was your turn to clean up after the classes. I miss the way you would walk to the middle of the studio when the main lights were turned off. How you would turn and pose in the glow of the back lights. I miss the way you would grin; there is no other way to describe it, when I would walk to you slowly and carefully like I was dancing opposite your lead. I miss the soft sigh you would make when I would kiss you. I miss dancing with you Brittany.

"Maybe." The shrill scream of the bell cuts through the room.

The soft padded sound of bare feet rushing past us. One last note left to linger after us as you stand first dusting off your pants before you reach down for me like always. Your touch electric and heated, it burns even after you pull away.

"So does anyone know what we're supposed to be doing in glee today?" Tina calls out from beneath the piano as she scrambles to grab her shoe.

The door opens and the roar of the hall cuts into this place; they stand waiting in the door way for you. For Tina. I'm going to get you back Brittany… I just don't know how. God I hate his face.


	15. Chapter 15

Karofksy. He's the key to this. The key to getting Kurt back; to winning prom queen; to winning nationals. He's the key to getting you. It's simple; isn't it?

I know you want me; I know what I am- who I am. But still my mind races and my heart stutters for reasons I wish I didn't know. There was another one last night... used a gun this time. He lives in the same town as my aunt. He went to school with Sophia, they had art class together. He was 14, two months younger than she is. It's the same old story; a story we see each and every day. I's the same story told in the halls of our school, in the streets of our town.

They spoke about it in hushed tones like it was dirty. Maria cried when she found out, they don't understand why. They don't understand how someone, me, could love the same gender, you. They spoke about it in the kitchen, she ordered dinner and was mixing drinks. He was slowly edging closer to his office, his eyes darting to the hall like a trapped animal. They forgot I was there.

She paused to cross herself after each time someone mentioned the kid; they can't remember his name. He spat the words out; homo, faggot, dyke, perverts, sinners, whores, sluts, heathens. He literally said the word heathens. He called the boy weak, sick and sad. She softly told of hearing stories about what they use to do to 'people like that.' That she'll never forget the stories of beatings, rape, being disowned and even killed.

I know what you want Brittany, believe me when I say I want it too. I just don't know how or if I can. I want you, I do. More than anything in this world I want you. But I'm scared. I'm scared and I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to stop.

I want to leave; to just run and never look back. It started in my stomach, and the thing that scares me is that it's so similar to this want I have for you. It was a twinge like feeling, my stomach knotted and my fingers curled. I thought of you, I thought that maybe they could see it. Maybe they could see you in me. Can they see you flowing in my veins? Clouding all thought? Hidden beneath my eye lids?

They scream how wrong it is, how hateful it is... and I want to say that it's not. This can't be wrong. I didn't even notice that I moved to the foyer. Or that my hands are trembling and white in my lap. My heart jumps into my throat when the bell rings. He's late; no one is late for a date with me, even if this isn't really a date.

"You're late." he stands hunched over, staring at his gorilla sized feet.

"Yeah well I have to check in with my dad every day after school now." he mumbles it, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

"Yeah well if I were him I would make you too. I wouldn't want to be surprised when I turned on the news." his eyes are almost black and I can see the pain in them. Even if he's a stupid jerk he is still human.

"Santana who is this?" right, they're home.

"Dad this is David Karofsky, and this is my father, Dr. Lopez." he straightens up, well as much as he can. I mean that both ways. "We're going to go study."

"It's nice to meet you sir." he stumbles forward with his hand stretched out.

It takes a couple minutes for him to notice, he just stands there looking at both of us. Staring at me like he barely recognizes me. That's funny because I can say the same thing about you papi.

"Hello. Well you two better get started; what class are you studying for?" what would you do if I said health class? Specifically sex Ed.

"History; human rights project. We decided on stonewall." he pauses as he turns around, trying to run back to his office. He doesn't bother to say anything he just keeps walking.

"Wait what? What's going on?" he turns, hand still poised, confused and angry.

"Just follow me." I want to protect you, I want to hold you. I want to give you everything you want... But this is the best I can do.

"Why am I here?" because you're the key to getting her back. You're the key to getting Kurt back. You're the key to protecting ourselves.

"Ok no, if this is going to work you're going to have to shut up and listen. I have a plan." it's the one good thing they've taught me; to always have a plan.

The sudden sound of you trying to whistle a Kesha song. You have to stop stealing my phone and changing the ring tone. How the hell do you do it? Like when or where do you do it?

**It'sBrittanyBitch**- are you still coming tonight? I have the studio to myself after.

"Nice ring tone."

"Just shut up and sit down so I can school you in how stupid you are."

* * *

><p>I feel like I haven't been here in years. The building looks smaller than I remember, the bricks faded and chipped. The old man that you're convinced is Scrooge locks his office door. He glances over his shoulder at me, his chin hitched high like he hates me. Get in line Ebenezer; I wouldn't be a Lopez if I wasn't hated.<p>

"Santana." a high pitched squeal cuts through the air. She sounds so much like a younger you, her hair have red tinges to it, a single strand falling from her bun. "Where have you been?"

Her arms wrap around my waist, she looks up at me with the same questioning look as you do. This look like whatever I say she'll believe.

"Hey there Santana, long time no see." he calls from the car, his glasses slipping down his nose. "Well come on Abby, we've got to get home. It's getting late."

"Are you going to sleep over this weekend?" she lets her arms fall as she slowly backs away.

"Maybe... you better go kid, before your dad gets cranky. It's almost his bed time you know." She rolls her eyes and waves good bye, turning to climb into the car. He honks as he pulls out, fixing his glasses before he waves.

The red of the blinkers catch my eye they glow in the dying light of the day. The sky a faded red and it reminds me of your lips. You started to help teach classes last year; I surprised you with a flower and coffee. You kissed me when I gave them to you.

Cameron nods as I walk in, his coat half on as he starts to turn the lobby lights off. Studio C, it's the last one in the hall. It's like walking in a memory, the warm yellow of the walls. The scuffed wooden floors and pictures of past recitals. The lights flicker before they turn off. That twinge in my stomach, my heart fluttering in my chest.

Everything stops when I see you. You. When did you become you? You were just Brittany before and now you're everything. Was it slow? Have I always loved you? Your hair falls in waves down around your shoulders. You pose in the centre of the room... I could watch you dance for hours. The door sticks, the only to open it is by turning the handle slowly down.

You stumble and a gasp cuts through the room. Time falls away and you kind of jump at my touch. The only thing that matters is you.

"Are you ok? What happened?" my hand is on your hip; your skin warm and familiar. You smile that shy smile as you place your hand on my arm.

"I'm ok... you came." We're too close; your freckles are starting to show. They fall, scattered, across your nose and cheeks.

"I said I would." I should step away, friends don't stand this close. I've missed your touch. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah... I didn't think you were going to come." you say things like that and all I want to do is kiss you. It makes my heart stop and start again.

"Well I'm here, like I said I would." You take a half step closer and I should move back, I should take my hands off your hips. I should stop this; you're not mine. "What are you doing?"

"Dancing." You tilt your head with this look in your eyes like it's the most obvious answer in the world.

We move in time to the music, you move your hand along my arm your fingers moving through mine. My hands twitch and move of their own accord, finding their place in your out stretched hand and on your shoulder. You smile that shy smile, the one that never fully leaves your mouth. We move along the room in sweeping steps, turning and turning like we can't stop. The room spins, lights blurred behind you catching in the blue of your eyes. Your eyes that hold me captive that holds this promise of tomorrow, a promise that everything will be okay. A promise that you're still mine.

"I'm sorry I missed this." You tilt your head, leaning back for a second before your hand slips from my hip to the small of my back.

We move faster, you hold me tighter; closer. And I let myself think that it's because you don't want to let me go. The song ends and we keep dancing, your steps faltering like you're getting tired... and the only thing I can do is cling to you. You begin to slow down, my hand moving along the back of your neck, when you whisper softly in my ear.

"The hardest of hearts." it breaks this spell that keeps us close and I don't understand. One day I'll have you figured out. "A song that best describes you... what Tina said the other day in the auditorium."

Right, yeah I didn't really pay much attention to Tina. She's kind of just there.

"Why that song?" You shrug, turning away and I want to stop you.

I want to shake you and scream I want to know why I'm here right now. I want to know what this is. I want to know what we are... are you mine or his. Do you love me? Like I love you?

"What song did you play today?" I follow you because I know of nothing else.

"Madame chose," you pause to press play and I think of your hands on my skin. "It's old, I don't really know it."

_Wouldn't it be nice if we were older _

_Then we wouldn't have to wait to so long _

_And wouldn't it be nice to live together _

_In the kind of world where we belong_

I use to dance to this song with my abuela in her kitchen. I can feel your eyes on me, and it's like you can see right through me. I know my heart is racing; I can hear it and feel it beat against my rib cage but I have never been as calm or happy as this moment.

"I do."

Your hands on my stomach as you move past me, walking around the room. Your hips swaying in that way that keeps me entranced. That makes my heart jump to my throat, it makes time speed up or slow down I don't really know.

"Santana?" will this ever change? Will it always be like this?

"Yeah." Mischievous smirks as you stop to untie your slippers.

"Do you think that we'll still be- us when we're older?" What is us Brittany?

"Us?" you pause trying to untie your slipper to stare at something I can't see.

_But let's talk about it. _

_Wouldn't it be nice..._

"You're Santana and I'm Brittany." Why is it that everything makes sense when I'm around you? "We're us."

The song ends, and we are left in silence. I want you... in any way I can have you.

"Let me." you turn to face me, a quiet sadness in your eyes as sit in front of you. "No matter what... we'll always be us."

"Do you promise?" with everything that I am. You move closer as I grab your foot...

"god these ballet outfits are worse than the cheerio skirts." My fingers fumble with the knot and for a second when I think back to the last time I did this.

You pulled me in for a kiss that smirks on your face. We kissed for an hour; what do you taste like tonight?

"Santana?" Can you see? How you possess me? How hard my heart is beating in my chest? "Do you promise?"

Your voice is quiet, sweet and perfect. How could I not?

"I promise." You hold your hand out, with your pinkie extended. I would laugh if I didn't want to cry. You skin is soft; one of us is going to lose this staring contest. "I- How was class?"

"It was fun, we just started pirouettes today. Well kind of demi-pirouettes, we just went over the basic of them." the song changes to something classical, it pulls your gaze for a second and I can almost see the dance play out in your eyes. "This was my first real recital... did you know that?"

No. You jump excitedly to your feet when I shake my head no. You smile turning your head away as you wait for a cue before you start. I've watched you dance a thousand times in glee and at cheerios. I sat next to Abby at your last recital. I want to say that I know each step you do but I don't.

"Do you ever stop dancing?" You spin once, that mischievous smirk playing across your lips.

"Of course I do... I sleep, walk, sit and sometimes even stand still." They think you're sweet and innocent. That you're not as smart as everyone else... they can go fuck themselves.

"Funny." They just don't get when you're messing with them. Or that some people learn differently.

"You're not laughing." The music stops, and you're still smirking. God I love how you wear that skirt. "Santana?"

Ever... ever since I said it; since I stopped fighting it I've noticed things. Things like your bare neck and the way your b- chest rises and falls. I should look away... but they're just so perfect. You lift your arm and the movement makes me realize that I'm still staring.

"Yeah?" How hard is it to take that thing off? When did you take your hair out? You kneel in front of me sitting back on your heels, tilting your head to the side with that smirk still there.

The heat that comes from you floods my senses, swirling in my head. You smell sweet and sweaty, your skin glowing. I lean back to get away, to stop this. I can't stop them... these images of you naked. My hand twitches when I think of how soft your skin is.

"Why are you still with Sam?" Am I? I love the way your mouth moves when you talk. "I thought-"

"Britt." You grab my arm, pulling me back to you. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

"You never want to talk." Not when we could be doing other things. Your hand is still on my arm. You have a boyfriend Brittany... has he- does he come here? Do you do this, whatever this is, with him?

"I'm gay Brittany and I- there is nothing more to talk about." I didn't come here for this... what did I think would happen? Your eyes follow me as I stand up... I can't do this. "If you want to talk then talk to that android. Apparently he's good at that."

"So that's it?" Don't use that voice... that's not fair.

"What else am I supposed to say Britt?" I don't know what you want.

"Nothing... I just thought that- why do you want to hide?" Is that what you think I'm doing?

"I'm not hiding... just let me do this my way." Why the fuck do I still want to kiss you right now? I'm tired of talking about this, of just- there's more to me than that. Is that all people are going to see when they know?

"Is it because you like Rachel?" I hate that you can make me laugh. And your smile... I hate it.

"I don't like Rachel." I just like the short skirts she wears.

"Are you sure?" Yeah, she's just too high needs. I like you.

"I'm sure... can we go now?" Kurt said he'll be at the Lima Bean at 9. You're going to be mine Britt; completely mine.

"Go where?" I'm going to marry you one day... now I have that song in my head.


	16. Chapter 16

**All I can think to say is sorry?**

There are moments when it's easy to forget that we're not- us anymore. Moments when I forget to not touch you, or smile at you. Moments that just happen without either of us noticing before it's too late. How am I supposed to just stop when everything about you is like second nature. I can't stop this anymore, I don't know how to stop this. I don't want to stop this; tell me how to stop this. Tell me how to stop feeling this.

It started with your smile when I opened the door to leave the studio. I couldn't stop from smiling back... everything about us is just so confusing. When we were... I can't even say that we were ever together. We were just us, Brittany and Santana; simple. When did we start being us, and stop being just best friends? What's the difference? What are we supposed to be? How are we supposed to be? When everything and everyone is screaming for us to stop.

* * *

><p><em>We went straight to the Lima bean. You played with the iPod as I drove, dancing wildly in the passenger seat and sang at the top of your lungs.<em>

_**I could stick around and get along with you, Hello.**_

The iPod threatening to detach as you use it as a mic, you wildly move about with a hidden smile on your lips whenever I glance at you. It's infectious, that smile... it crawls along my skin, whispers in my ear until I cannot stop from smiling back. You pause only to smile flirtatiously and wink at the old man in the car next to us. You laugh when he turns red and fumbles to make his turn. It hurts to focus, to turn away from you for the seconds it takes to park the car.

"You're crazy." The mic held out in invitation to sing along, and you smile that mischievous grin once more. You lean forward as if to share this part, your smile fading slightly.

_**Yeah I think you're cute but really you should know. I just came to say hello, hello, hello, hello.**_

Everything we know is forgotten; there is only the light of a street lamp illuminating your face. There is only the blue of your eyes and the twitch of your pale red lips as you sing out.

"You love it and you know it." Simple words in a simple moment, formed by perfect lips.

If I lean forward I could feel them, taste them. If I lean forward this ache will stop, this racing heart hidden deep within my chest will calm. For this moment it feels as if it's whole, it feels right. Perfect; like I'm home. Like we're safe.

It lays thick in the air, your smile falters and it's all that I know. It's all that I feel and want; forget tomorrow. I want and need you now. You pull back a little, your gaze falling to my lips. Like you're waiting for me to say something, to do all I can think about is that all it takes is a moment Brittany; it's all I ask for... I ask for right now.

_**It's OK with me if you don't have that much to say, hey. Kinda like this game but there's something you should know.**_

Your fingers twitch as I run my finger over them... we fight to breath, to stop this. But you won't look away, and it's only one moment out of the thousand we are promised. Your lips part slightly, your breathe catches and I remember. I remember every moment I have ever had with you. I remember every moment ever spent thinking about you; every moment I dream of having with you.

This moment is ours. This moment is when everything makes sense, when nothing hurts anymore. I can be your best friend, I can be your protector, your chauffeur, your mess. I want to be everything you need me to be. I want, always, to feel this. To know this moment.

My skin is on fire and there is this knot in my stomach that won't go away. You taste of something sweet and airy; like summer. Your fingers curl around mine, and I want to be lost in you. I want to forget I just want to give in to you. But then you move away, just enough to rest your forehead against mine. How can a kiss, no more than two sets of lips pressed together, make me feel so dizzy? I close my eyes to stop the world from spinning, but then all I can focus on is how good you smell, and I can't stop this feeling of falling.

"Why is this so hard?" In all fairness, this was one of the things we did the most as friends.

"Santana." Your mouth brushes against my own as you say it. All I want to hear, all I want to know is that you feel this too. "I- I don't know."

For a second I thought you were going to say you loved me. I never thought a broken heart could break again.

"non-fat shot of cinnamon extra foam caramel latte?"It's the only thing I can think to say.

You smile and I can't move, I can't breath or feel anything but the way my lips brush yours when I turn away. Like a stolen promise that maybe we can relive this moment. A shaky breath taken as I step out of the car.

suck it up Lopez. Just stop being a trembling mess and get it together.

"How about a frozen mocha with whip and chocolate sprinkles?" I haven't had one of those since- well last time I picked you up from dance class. "Santana?"

"Yeah?" You stare over the roof of the car, half hidden in shadow.

"This was always my favorite part of teaching dance." My heart skips a beat whenever you say something like that... every single piece of it. "You're like the most awesome best- person ever."

"Brittany. Santana." His voice muted and distant; unimportant and pretty annoying actually. He's the key to getting you back, I can't mess this up. "Where did you two just come from?"

They're wearing complimenting outfits, that's just freaking nauseating. Other than being forced to wear our cheerio uniforms, let's never wear matching clothes.

"Dance class." I love your voice. He raises his eyebrow and tilts his head in this thoughtful way. He's going to say something that's going to annoy me isn't he. "What about you guys?"

"I didn't know you were in dance Santana." They're holding hands, and what the hell does that mean?

"We just came from the movies." Does he always have to talk? And now we have to watch them make eye love. It's making me physically sick.

"She teaches it, and also I can dance circles around you twinkle toes." Fuck. I'm supposed to be nice. "At least I don't just shimmy around the stage."

"I do more than shimmy, thank you very much." You shuffle around, taking a step closer to the Lima Bean. Your quiet way of making us move.

"I'm sorry, I forgot about the jazz fingers." The corner of your mouth twitches, like you found that funny.

I use to be able to make you laugh like it was nothing. I miss your laugh.

"I like your jazz fingers." Of course he does.

"Thank you Blaine; Santana don't ruin this moment for me." Like I was going to say anything.

"Oh shut it Hummel." You glance at me and it's almost instantaneous. "Sorry." Fuck. "Hey Britt, other gay can you grab our drinks I need to talk to Kurt."

I pull him away, not giving either of you an option as we near the door. I can't put this off any more. I feel like I'm suffocating without you.

* * *

><p>Your voice echoes in my head... all I've been thinking about is you saying it back. I've dreamt and prayed that you would say it. That you smile that shy smile, how your hand would feel as you pull me into a hug. I imagined that I would be able to hear your heart beat, that I could feel it against my chest. I've thought about how you would whisper it into my hair and that everything would stop. That there would be no more pain or confusion that this would stop. Instead it broke my heart again... you always break my heart. You said you loved me. I didn't imagine it; I didn't dream it up. You said it... and it hurt. Why did it hurt? Why don't you get it?<p>

I don't know how to explain it Brittany. We didn't all grow up like you. I'm not as strong as you. I want- I wish I could be. I've fought for everything I have; I fought to be on the cheerios. I've fought for every grade and solo. Did you know that I did gymnastics... when I was younger. I would compete and everything. I won gold in almost every meet; but it wasn't enough for them.

I stay up half the night studying to be top of my class... and Rachel Berry is still ahead of me in chemistry. Quinn's better at English and well other Asian is- Asian. I volunteer 20 hours a week at the hospital, one Sunday afternoon a month at the shelter. People smell, they are dirty and terrible. I've worked for what I have, for who I am... it's never been enough. Then I met you.

I met you and I didn't know what to say or do. I'm going mad trying to figure this out. Trying to understand the moment I became this- person. I mean I know I'm me- I just don't know this part of me. I don't know when I fell in love with you. I don't know when you became my best friend or- how did I lose you?

How can I tell everyone when I don't even know? How am I supposed to wear this shirt, this stupid goddamn shirt Brittany when I can't even say it? When it hurts to even think about it? It's just a shirt to you... but it's makes it real and I can't. I can't have it be real...


End file.
